Hasardeux
by maledictmongrel
Summary: She was everything that Gérard had cracked her up to be. She was stunningly beautiful, peerlessly elegant, and just the right amount of feisty; The perfect person at the wrong time. Nevertheless, nothing could prevent Angela Ziegler from falling for Amélie Lacroix.
1. I

A needle adorned with surgical thread was looped skillfully through crimson-stained flesh by nimble fingers that had done so hundreds of times before. Angela Ziegler's left hand found a pair of scissors on the tray table beside her and she swiftly snipped the end of the thread. She went about dressing the wound and the soldier, who was a fresh face to Overwatch, looked thoughtfully at his stitches. The injury had been somewhat severe when he was first brought to the triage; A laceration that spanned from his upper abdomen to the skin just beside his navel. It was rather deep, but Mercy wasn't worried. With the nanobots she had administered to the wound before closing it, the tissue would be repaired by morning. The patient winced a bit as Angela finished covering up the wound. She removed her gloves and wiped at her forehead, which was coated in a thin layer of sweat.

"I apologize about the pain. It's nothing some Acetaminophen won't fix. Check in with any of the medical staff tomorrow and they can take another look at that wound." She said mechanically.

The young soldier thanked her before easing himself off of the medical table. His fingers gingerly moved to the injury as he ambled toward the entrance of the large tent. A few nurses shuffled around him as they tended to other soldiers that had just returned from various missions. Usually the busiest time for the medical staff came in the morning, after the stealth ops had been completed. It was typically only Blackwatch that took on the big secret missions, so the rush wasn't that overwhelming. The injuries, however, were almost always the most severe. Depending on how the operation went, they would either return filled with bullet holes or completely unscathed.

Nothing was too much for Doctor Angela Ziegler, though. She was a prodigy; A globally recognized genius. She joined Overwatch at the age of twenty and had been running with them ever since. She had helped pioneer countless experiments utilizing nanobiology and had advanced the technology with the help of her fellow scientists. Sure, she was spending the prime of her life in the clutches of war. But she was making a difference in the world. She loved to help people. And here, in Overwatch, people needed her.

The noise in the triage tent began to die down as morning came around. And sure enough, as if on cue, the Blackwatch agents came filing in. A soldier known as "Woods" was carried by two familiar faces. Gabriel Reyes and Gérard Lacroix helped their friend onto an examination table as a nearby nurse began prepping her station. He moaned in pain as his comrades reassured him that he would be alright and did their best to help him remain calm. Eventually, he relaxed and the two men made their way toward Angela, both of them still adorning matching combat gear. The doctor greeted them warmly, met with a bear hug from Gérard and a half smile from Gabriel.

"How did it go?" Angela asked, handing the men some sanitary wipes to clean themselves up.

Gabriel began wiping off his hands and Gérard beamed, "No fatalities. And we got the intel that we need. Gabe even got to play hero by getting Woods out of trouble."

Reyes rolled his eyes at his counterpart's explanation and began to tune him out. It was nothing out of the ordinary, though. Gérard was extremely passionate about his work. He'd been spearheading the operations against Talon for quite some time now, and he was enthusiastic about it to say the least. A running joke amongst the agents of Overwatch was that Gérard only talked about two things: His job and his wife. Although, as far as Angela knew, none of Overwatch had ever actually met the woman that he constantly spoke so highly of. It was rather odd to know virtually everything about a person that you had never even met. Angela sometimes pondered what the lady was like in real life. Gérard painted her like some sort of goddess, but he had a habit of exaggerating things.

Angela snapped out of her thoughts when Gérard placed a hand on her shoulder, "Angie, are you in there?"

Suddenly noticing the weight of her eyelids, she nodded, "Yes, yes. Sorry. It's been a long day."

"No rest for the weary." Gabriel muttered as he folded his arms.

"At least we go back to Headquarters tonight. You can sleep on the flight." Gérard pointed out to his partner.

"We leave tonight?" Angela perked up, encouraged by the idea that she would be able to knock out for a few hours.

" _Oui_ ," Gérard chuckled, "Don't sound so disappointed."

"I completely lost track of time." She admitted, unrolling the sleeves of her white coat, "It will be nice to finally relax for a moment."

"And by 'relax', you mean burying yourself in mountains of paperwork about your research, right?" Gabriel let a smirk creep across his lips.

"I _relax_ , Gabriel." The doctor said defensively.

"Sure you do." He replied sarcastically, "I'm just thankful that I'll finally be able to go out for drinks with Jesse again. I miss the bastard."

"Don't forget the plans for Friday evening!" Gérard piped up again, brown eyes filled with excitement, "Angela, I almost neglected to tell you. On Friday, Amélie has a ballet performance! I want everyone to attend so that you may all meet her."

"That sounds wonderful, Gérard. What production is it?" Angela inquired.

Gérard hesitated. Doctor Ziegler could see the gears in his head turning. He ran a hand through his matted, dark hair. His expression was thoughtful, but he shook his head.

"I'm not sure… But it will be amazing, I promise you!" He assured her, bringing a finger to his com-piece.

He turned away for a moment and mumbled a few affirmations before turning back to them, "Looks like we're leaving a bit earlier than expected. Care to accompany us, Doctor Ziegler?"

Angela quickly accepted the offer and cleaned up her station before joining the two men as they strolled outside. A few fellow agents were boarding the ship ahead of them. The whirring of the motors was irritating, but oddly comforting, since it served as a reminder that they were finally homebound. Angela was grateful that soon she would be back in the comfort of her office. Back with her piles of paperwork and her cluttered bookshelves and her countless novelty mugs. She smiled at the thought of home as she boarded the ship. Almost instantaneously, she was greeted by Ana Amari.

"How are we, Ziegler?" Ana asked, wrapping her arm around the doctor's shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

"Doing well. And yourself, Captain Amari?" Angela replied politely as they settled into the booth.

"Exhausted, homesick, in desperate need of a drink." Ana laughed, "The same as you, I'm sure."

"I certainly wouldn't be opposed to a drink right now." She admitted, rubbing her temples with her index and middle fingers.

"Call it a mother's intuition." Captain Amari grinned and tapped a digit against the side of her nose.

The doors to the ship were sealed and the engines began to hum louder. The aircraft slowly lifted off of the ground and the cabin pressure changed slightly as their altitude increased. Angela slouched in the booth, folding her arms over her chest and letting a sigh escape her lips. Beside her, Captain Amari fiddled with one of her holo projectors. Across from them, Gabriel was completely asleep. His head hung to one side and his mouth was slightly open. To the left of him, Gérard tried to contain his laughter as he dug through his duffle bag. For the most part, the ship was silent, save for the constant whirring and occasional rattling of the ship. Angela felt herself beginning to drift off to sleep and did little to fight it. Within a few moments, she had succumbed to the clutches of a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Ziegler," Captain Amari's voice, as well as a quick shake of the shoulders, brought the doctor out of her slumber, "Rise and shine."

She groggily sat up straight and stretched her arms, taking note of the soreness in her back. Ana waited patiently as her comrade tried to get up and around. She wiped at her eyes before scooting out of the booth and rising to her feet with a yawn. The sniper nodded toward the doors of the ship, which were now opening to allow everyone out. Gabriel and Gérard picked up their bags and hustled off of the ship to debrief with everyone back at HQ. Ana and Angela gathered their own belongings, careful not to leave anything on the ship.

"I hope you're not planning to nose-dive into your studies, Doctor Ziegler." Ana began in a motherly tone, "You should eat breakfast, first."

Breakfast? She hadn't even considered such a thing. Back at the triage, they had been working in a different time zone. Breakfast time at the Headquarters was bed time for the medical staff. Or, at least, it would be bed time if they were able to get some sleep. Angela was no stranger to lack of sleep. She'd suffered with insomnia long before she joined Overwatch and even before she had began studying medicine. And if she were to be completely honest with herself, she always felt like she operated better in the latest hours of the night. She'd come up with the best tweaks to her nanobot technology in the hours between midnight and dawn, even performed some of her best surgeries at similar times. Angela sometimes prided herself on her ability to continue functioning despite having not slept in what felt like days. Others, like Gabriel, could never operate under such conditions.

"I'll probably just have some coffee," Angela said, steadying herself as she walked down the ramp of the ship.

"Nonsense. You have to eat _real_ food." Captain Amari demanded.

The Swiss woman sighed, knowing there was no arguing with Ana. She was basically the mother of everyone in Overwatch. She looked after them, encouraged them, and even cracked down on them when necessary. Especially Fareeha. But seeing the bond that the two shared made Angela long to know her own mother, or even her father. They died when she was very young, leaving her with no memory of them. The only parents she had ever known were the people who worked at the group home where she was raised. That was better than nothing, wasn't it? Either way, she was grateful for Ana's motherly presence… Even if she was a little frightening sometimes.

"Mom!" Fareeha called as she ran over to the two women.

"Fareeha," Ana smiled as she tightly hugged her daughter.

"I'm so glad you're home safe," The Egyptian woman said cheerily, "That includes you, Angela."

"It's good to see you as well," Angela responded with a smile.

"I'm glad you're here, _habibti_. Come. Help Doctor Ziegler with her bags and then bring her to the kitchen." Ana ordered.

"Oh, really, it's no-" Angela started up, but was quickly interrupted.

"Alright," She nodded as she took one of the doctor's bags and hoisted it onto her shoulder.

Angela shielded her other bag, causing Fareeha to raise a brow at her. "I've got this one. It's fine."

Fareeha shrugged and the two women walked toward the medic's office. They ventured into a large building with sliding doors that asked for authorization. Fareeha pressed her finger to the scanning pad until the light blinked green. The doors unlocked and slid open to allow the two agents into the hall. They entered the cold corridor with long, blue walls and strolled to the elevator, waiting for the car to come.

"How was your mission?" The younger woman asked.

"It wasn't much of a mission," Angela admitted, "I only went into combat twice. It was mostly just working back at the triage."

"Still exciting! I bet you saved many lives. You must be exhausted," Fareeha said enthusiastically as they stepped into the elevator.

Doctor Ziegler only chuckled and watched as the other woman selected the floor that her office was on. She couldn't wait to be back in her niche. The elevator came to a halt and the doors parted ways. Angela briskly approached the end of the hall, where her office door sat in waiting. She pressed her finger print to the scanning pad and then typed in the code to unlock her office. The lock clicked and she pushed the door open. She was exponentially delighted to see the familiar mess before her. Fareeha followed her inside and placed the bag down on the little white love seat in front of the coffee table. Angela dropped her bag on the floor next to the love seat and huffed before looking back at her friend. She wanted to collapse on the couch right then. Fareeha must have read her mind.

"You know if you don't come with me, my mother will hunt you down and force feed you." She exaggerated, placing her hands on her hips.

"I know." Angela giggled and trailed after her as she stepped back into the hallway.

The pair headed back toward the courtyard and crossed over to the cafeteria. The doors slid open and they were welcomed with the familiar noise of chatter as soldiers and agents ate their breakfast. Thankfully, breakfast was the most quiet meal time of the day, since everyone was trying to wake up. Angela matched Fareeha's pace as they sauntered to the kitchen area. Sure enough, Ana was busy manning the waffle iron. As the two women came up behind her, she turned around and opened up the press to reveal a perfect waffle.

"Toppings are over there. Yours is coming up next, _habibti_." She told the duo as she used a fork to pry the waffle out of the iron.

She dropped it onto a plate and handed it to Angela. The blonde woman looked down at the waffle and felt her stomach growl when the bouquet hit her nose. She couldn't even remember the last thing she ate. She tried to recall what her most recent meal was as she ambled to the counter and set her plate down, but she couldn't think of anything. She reached into the cabinet above the counter and pulled out the syrup before raiding numerous drawers in the fridge for strawberries and whipped cream. After she had decorated her breakfast with various toppings, she plopped down on a barstool on the opposite side of the counter. She cut the waffle into bite-sized pieces and chewed them slowly, barely able to keep her eyes open. Fareeha joined her at the counter and started mowing through her meal.

"Try to stay awake, Angela." Fareeha laughed, "Mom's working on the coffee."

Angela nodded and popped a strawberry into her mouth. She was only halfway through her breakfast when Fareeha had finished hers. Ana slid them two mugs and Angela quickly brought the drink to her lips. Even though it was hot, she drank a few mouthfuls before placing the mug back on the counter top. Fareeha waited for hers to cool and Ana leaned on the other side of the counter.

"Thank you for everything, Captain Amari." Angela said graciously as she returned to cutting up the remaining half of her waffle.

"It's no trouble." Ana said with a wave of her hand.

"Do I smell waffles?" A husky voice asked from the other side of the kitchen.

Jack Morrison strolled over and smiled at his teammates. Ana began fixing him a cup of coffee, Fareeha greeted him politely, and Angela offered him an exhausted smile. He folded his arms and stood before the countertop.

"Long flight?" He joked as he accepted a mug from Ana, who he then thanked.

"Gabriel snored." The sniper huffed, "Doctor Ziegler didn't get to hear it."

"Damn shame." Jack snickered, "Where's Gabe now?"

"Debriefing. They shouldn't be much longer." Ana glanced at the clock above the window on the wall adjacent to them.

"How'd it go, Angie? Did you have to patch him up again?" The soldier asked, referring to the time that Gabriel had a bit of a mishap during a mission with Jack.

It was a supposed to be a simple clean sweep operation, but Gabriel managed to trigger a tripwire and ended up with a few darts stuck in his body. It was almost as bad as the time that Gérard had accidentally crashed into a cactus patch on an ATV. Either way, the poor guy could never live it down. Jack just couldn't seem to let it go.

"Not this time." Angela said, "I did have to work on the new recruit, though."

"Woods?" Morrison inquired.

Angela nodded and took another sip of coffee. Jack hummed quietly and turned to look toward the seating area where everyone else enjoyed their breakfast and socialized. A silence settled over the tired group as they drank their coffee. Gabriel and Gérard wandered into the kitchen, both of them looking intoxicated by the smell of breakfast. A wry grin covered Jack's face at the sight of Gabriel Reyes.

"Hey, Gabe. How'd it go?"

"Fine." He grumbled, crossing the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

Gérard exchanged greetings with everyone and started conversation with Jack about the mission, Ana and Fareeha started speaking Arabic to one another, and Angela stared blankly at her now empty plate. All she could think about was that damn couch in the next building over. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her office and sleep for days. In fact, she could probably fall asleep right here, right now. She felt her heavy eyelids beginning to droop when a loud ringing caused her to jerk upright in her seat. Gérard brought his cell phone to his ear and paused for a moment before a stream of French flowed past his lips. He then retreated around the corner to continue his phone call.

"Amélie, probably." Jack shrugged.

"He gets so excited about her." Fareeha smiled, "It's precious."

"Not sure why." Gabriel muttered as he returned to the group.

"What do you mean?" She prodded, tilting her head.

"Gabriel." Jack said in a warning tone.

Angela raised her eyebrows and rested her elbows on the counter top. A small smirk found its way onto Ana's lips and she attempted to cover it with her hand. Gabriel was too occupied with stuffing a hot pocket into his mouth to acknowledge Jack's scolding. Angela and Fareeha waited for him to swallow his mouthful of food so he could elaborate. Once he had gotten his first bite down, he shook his head and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

"Everybody knows it's a marriage of convenience." He said in a low voice.

"Convenience?" Angela asked, also being mindful to lower her speaking volume.

"Guys," Jack growled.

"They're not in love?" Fareeha frowned.

"Obviously Gérard is completely infatuated with the woman." Ana pointed out, "We just aren't sure if we can say the same for her."

"I heard they're only married because their families are so tightly knit. That, or something about politics." Gabriel says.

" _Enough_!" Jack snapped, causing the room to fall silent, "The last thing Overwatch needs is gossip within itself. It's bad enough that the media is slandering us. We don't want everyone at each other's throats."

Everyone went still for a moment and exchanged nervous glances. Jack chewed the inside of his cheek and set his mug down. Gérard rounded the corner again with a smile on his face.

"Is everyone still attending the ballet tomorrow night?" He asked.

The group simultaneously affirmed the plan and Gérard lit up all over again, " _Magnifique_!"

With that, the French man sashayed out of the room. The group of Overwatch agents exchanged glances once again. Morrison sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Just don't talk about it. Okay?" He warned as he turned on his heel and exited the kitchen with his coffee mug.

"Who shit in his cornflakes?" Gabriel remarked with a devious grin on his face.

"What do you mean? It wasn't you?" Ana bantered.

"I didn't shit in his cornflakes, but I spit in his coffee." He said, earning a loud laugh from Fareeha and a coy simper from Angela.

"You two and your rivalry, I swear." Captain Amari shook her head light heartedly as she began cleaning up the mess from breakfast.

"One day he'll learn." Reyes said as he left the kitchen.

"Whatever you say, Gabriel." Ana laughed.

* * *

Doctor Angela Ziegler lie sprawled out across her beloved couch with a book on her chest and her glasses halfway down her nose. She had barely finished the first page of her reading when she slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber. Drool trickled from the corner of her mouth as she rolled onto her side, still completely asleep. If it weren't for the abrupt and aggressive knocking on her door, she would've slept for the rest of the day. However, she quickly jerked upright, causing her book and her glasses to topple to the floor. She scrambled to pick them up before hurrying to the door. She opened it and found a smug looking Gabriel in the hallway.

"I figured you'd be asleep," He said knowingly, "Thought I'd wake you up so you wouldn't miss tonight's outing."

Angela pulled back her white coat sleeve to reveal her watch. Her eyes widened at the realization that she had almost slept through the entire day. She then looked back up at Gabriel and shook her head slowly.

"Outing?" She inquired.

Gabriel chuckled, "You know? Gérard invited all of us to go see Amélie perform."

" _Scheisse_ ," Angela muttered, "I completely forgot. When are we leaving?"

"About an hour. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll meet you downstairs." He told her, gesturing to the dried spit on the corner of her mouth.

She quickly shut the door, her face turning red as she wiped at her lips with the sleeve of her coat. Again, she had managed to fall asleep in her work clothes. It was a pretty common occurrence, but it usually happened when she was out in the field. Otherwise, she could actually will herself to change into some sweats before she tried to pull an all-nighter and read endless medical studies. The blonde woman huffed as she looked through the little closet in the back of her office. HQ was nice in the sense that it had housing for the Overwatch agents, but Angela spent the majority of her time in the office, away from her private quarters. That's why she had taken the liberty of moving half of her belongings into her office. Things like clothes, certain furniture items, and even various trinkets and novelty items. It was more convenient this way. After all, the office was closer to the cafeteria and the debriefing room. It also housed her treasured love seat, which she swore was the most comfortable piece of furniture ever made. She had probably slept on that couch ten times as much as she had slept in her actual bed.

The doctor successfully fished out a small, light blue dress that she had worn to a few gatherings before. It was similar to a sundress, since it was comfortable and short. But it looked more formal and it often got her quite a few compliments. She pulled the dress off of its hanger and looked at it for a moment before deciding that she needed to shower. Reluctantly, she carried herself up to her private quarters and unlocked the door. Once inside, Angela made her way into the bathroom and started the faucet. She took a brief shower and quickly dressed herself thereafter. She dried her hair and put it into a neat bun with a few loose strands of hair hanging freely around her face. The doctor decided to apply some light, natural-looking makeup before she headed out the door.

When she arrived downstairs, she saw Gabriel leaning against the wall in the hallway. His arms were folded across his chest and he was sporting a nice suit. It was weird to see him in formal attire, rather than blood-smeared combat gear. He stood upright and nodded to the door. Angela followed suit and the two eventually boarded a small ship that would get them to their destination quickly. She, Gabriel, and a few other members of the Overwatch crew packed into the aircraft. They arrived at their first stop shortly and then piled into a sleek, black hover car that transported them to the theatre. Hordes of people stood outside the building, waiting to get in and take their seats. The vehicle pulled to a stop along the curb and Gérard was there to greet them. He greeted each one of his friends warmly before ushering them into the theatre. Angela was a bit overwhelmed by the whirlwind of activity. In all honesty, it was probably because she couldn't shake the feeling that she was still half asleep.

The Swiss woman held the long, thin strap of her little handbag a bit tighter as she passed by an abundance of well-dressed folks inside the theatre. She trailed behind Gabriel and scanned her surroundings as they approached the front row of seats. One by one, the Overwatch agents sat down and settled in for the show. Shortly after that, the crowds outside were allowed in and the theatre was humming with chatter. Angela put her arms on the armrests and straightened her aching back a bit. Gabriel absentmindedly tapped his foot beside her, something he often did as he sat. Gérard spoke with Jack excitedly about the performance, explaining how he couldn't wait to see his wife dance. The doctor felt a pang of sadness in her chest upon remembering what Reyes had said about his comrade's marriage. It was clear that Gérard felt something, but Amélie remained a complete mystery. Perhaps she would get a little more insight upon meeting the woman.

Until then, though, she tried to relax in her seat as the lights dimmed. The composer began to direct the orchestra and beautiful music emanated from the pit in front of the stage. The curtains drew back to reveal what appeared to be a bunch of soldiers, each of them clutching a staff. Mercy smiled to herself, reminded of her own Caduceus staff that she had grown so attached to. She watched in amusement as a mass of dancers fled the stage, leaving one soldier on his own. He was quickly joined by another male dancer who was scarce of clothing. The pair danced around the stage for a bit before a swarm of performers took to the stage. Girls danced on their toes around a ballerino who adorned gold robes. Beside Angela, Gabriel looked completely lost. His brows were knit in confusion and he rested his chin on his fist as he watched the events unfolding before him. At the back of the stage, from a large archway, a silhouette appeared. A female dancer with a veil over her face gracefully took to the stage.

Gabriel nearly jumped out of his seat when Gérard smacked him on the arm and whispered, "That's her!"

She took lengthy, confident strides with pointed toes and came to a halt in front of the dancer in the golden robes. He removed the veil from her face and Angela gazed in complete awe. From what she could see, Amélie was beautiful. She was tall with long legs; The poster body for a ballerina. She had some muscle to her arms and her thighs were extremely toned. Her skin was fair and her stage makeup added an intense contour to the natural angles of her face. From the moment she took to the stage, she stole the show. Angela had never seen such elegance before. She performed with powerful emotion and executed every bit of her choreography flawlessly. At the end of the production, everyone in the audience rose to their feet and applauded as loud as they could. Angela clapped until her palms were burning. The dancers bowed and the applause soon died down as groups of people hurried backstage to meet with the performers. Gérard got to his feet and insisted that every member of the Overwatch crew accompany him backstage.

Angela clung to Gabriel's arm as they pushed through the sea of people to get behind the stage area. The commotion caused her to give a small squeeze to Gabriel's bicep, emitting a gravelly chuckle from him. The Overwatch team came to a grinding halt when Gérard finally found Amélie. She was now wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a white sweatshirt with the name of her dance studio on it. Her dark brown hair had been dropped from its tight bun and was now hanging in a short, loose ponytail. Even though she looked exhausted, she was still the epitome of beauty. Angela thought she was gorgeous on stage, but up close, she was absolutely stunning. Gérard introduced every member of the team to her and she met all of them warmly. When it came Angela's turn to be introduced, she shook Amélie's hand gently. The doctor noticed how soft her hands were and she hoped that her palm wasn't sweaty. Big, golden brown eyes locked onto Angela's own and a radiant smile crossed Amélie's lips.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," She said, her French accent notably much more prominent than Gérard's.

The doctor hesitated a moment before nodding and saying politely, "It's great to meet you, too. You were amazing out there!"

Amélie gave her thanks for the compliment and went on to thank the rest of the Overwatch team for coming. People began to exit the backstage area and the agents were able to spread out a bit more. Gérard wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and Angela couldn't help taking notice of the sudden change in her body language. She mentally penciled down how she stiffened a bit, how she furrowed her brow, and how she fidgeted with her fingers. Gérard, who must have been completely oblivious to the red flags, leaned in and whispered something into Amélie's ear. When he pulled away, she looked thoughtful for a moment. She then shrugged her shoulders and gave a curt nod. Gérard got that massive grin on his face again and he turned to the Overwatch crew.

"My friends! I'd like to invite you to accompany Amélie and I to dinner. On me, of course." He said excitedly, making it nearly impossible to say no to his invitation.

Of course, there were a few exceptions. While a few members of the team said their goodbyes, Angela's eyes remained on Amélie. She noticed how the French woman was equally as observant. Her eyes scanned around the room until they found Angela's again. Angela quickly looked away, but caught a glimpse of the playful, knowing smirk that tugged at her lips. The doctor grabbed her own arm and pretended like the curtains behind her friends were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. Thankfully, everyone started moving again and the French couple walked ahead of her. She fell back a tad and Gabriel matched her pace, taking a final look around the theatre as they approached the doors.

"It really is a beautiful theatre." Gabe muttered gruffly.

"Always a man of good taste, Reyes." Jack remarked with a chuckle as he strode ahead.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "I can't appreciate anything without a comment from Strike Commander Ass Hat over there."

Angela couldn't help but giggle, "You two love each other," She reminded him.

All she received in response was a quiet grunt as Gabriel stuffed his hands in the pockets of his suit. They stepped outside and Gérard informed everyone that the restaurant was only a block or two away. Then, he led them down the sidewalk toward their destination. Outside, it was nice. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. Cars occasionally passed by on the streets and sometimes music drifted faintly from the open doors of various businesses. It was nice, Angela thought. Nice to pretend like she was just a regular person, going out to dinner with her regular friends. Nice to pretend like the world wasn't falling apart at the seams. Even though it most certainly was, it was always nice to get away from the thought of it for a while.

Angela put off her bothersome thoughts as they closed in on the restaurant. It appeared somewhat small. How would they even fit the entire team at a table? Jack held the door open for everyone and then followed them inside. It smelled absolutely amazing and the atmosphere was calm. Gérard spoke with the hostess and she nodded before taking them through a small hallway and stopping in a room with a large, empty table. Everyone took their seats hastily and another woman came to take their drink orders and hand them menus. The team made chatter amongst themselves and Angela ordered herself a glass of wine. Fareeha nudged the doctor's arm with her own and Angela raised a brow.

"Did you see-" She was cut short when they both noticed Jack's threatening glare.

Fareeha slowly leaned back in her chair and Angela smoothed out the skirt of her dress. The two tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as the waitress began bringing out their drinks. Angela graciously accepted her wine glass and thanked the young woman. She held the stem of the glass as she took a sip. It was slightly cold, but incredibly good. She set the glass on the table and watched her friends socialize. Meanwhile, the poor waitress danced around the table, asking about orders and refills. Watching the woman never stop moving reminded her of her own work. Sometimes it felt like if she was in one place for too long, she'd turn into a statue. The waitress made her way to the end of the table, asking Amélie for her order. She tapped her long, thin fingers on the table as she spoke to the waitress. Her manicured nails made a quiet clicking sound against the wood.

Angela pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, "I'm going to wash my hands."

"Germaphobe... Hurry back," Fareeha remarked as she took a drink of beer.

The blonde woman went through the small hallway that they had gone through earlier and found the restrooms near the front of the restaurant. She stepped into the women's room and looked at herself in the mirror as she started the faucet. She lathered some foamy soap in her hands, staring back at her reflection. At least she didn't look as tired as she felt. Not to mention the fact that her hair still looked completely untouched. That was always something to be proud of. Angela's eyes shifted to the bathroom door as it swung open. Amélie entered the bathroom and took to the sink beside hers. She turned to Angela as she began to wash her hands. Suddenly, the doctor was nervous. _Nervous_. Why was she nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about. She was standing next to a devastatingly good looking woman who just happened to be married to one of her very good friends. Nothing to be nervous about.

"There's so much going on this evening. I can hardly keep up." She gave a light laugh, shaking her head as she looked down at the countertop.

Angela tried to push down her nerves as she lightly chuckled in agreement, "I know how you feel."

"I really do appreciate everyone coming, though. I wasn't expecting… So many of you." Amélie admitted, "Gérard talks about all of you all the time, but I thought he was just exaggerating the numbers."

"This is only a small portion of the organization," Angela informed her, "I'm assuming that Gérard hasn't brought you around Headquarters , then?"

"No, not yet. I'm not sure if he ever will. I'm sure it's most exciting, though," The French woman said.

"Exciting is one word for it." Doctor Ziegler commented, "Perhaps we can persuade Gérard to bring you around sometime. Then you can see the rest of the Overwatch family."

"That would be nice," Amélie smiled.

Amélie dried her hands and Angela realized that she was still standing there. She awkwardly moved toward the door and opened it, letting Amélie go ahead of her. They made their way back toward the table where plates were now being set out. At Angela's empty seat, there was a platter heaped with pasta. She returned to her spot between Fareeha and Gabriel and graciously dug into her food. Had she even eaten at all today? She knew how to take care of everyone except for herself. She tried to remain as lady-like as possible as she shoveled noodles into her mouth. The food was excellent and it filled her up rather quickly in comparison to the food that was served at Headquarters. She pushed her chair back a tad and finished off her second glass of wine, feeling warm and satisfied.

"I'd like to make a toast!" Reinhardt boomed as he stood up, "To Gérard and Amélie!"

The Overwatch crew held up their glasses and clinked a few together. Fareeha and Angela exchanged sideways glances as they both observed Amélie's exhausted attempt at a smile. Gérard wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. She lifted her glass and finished off the rest of her champagne. Laughter floated around the room as everyone began exchanging stories and tales of valor. Amélie looked surprisingly interested in the various accounts that everyone gave. They went around the table as Angela stared thoughtfully at her empty wine glass. She hadn't even realized it was her turn until Fareeha nudged her in the elbow.

"What about you, Ziegler? You see it all!" The German man urged.

"Tell the one about the cactus and Gérard, Angie!" Jack smirked, causing Gérard to laugh and shake his head.

"Should I tell that one? Or should I tell the one about the time Lena recalled directly into the path of a moving vehicle?" The doctor giggled.

"Oi! It was only one time!" Lena objected from the other end of the table.

"Cactus?" Amélie inquired.

"We were stationed in the desert for a few weeks and they were running a stealth mission. I remember I had just cleaned up everything at the triage and there was a knock at the door. I opened it up and Gabriel was in tears, laughing hysterically," Angela started to laugh at the memory, "So I asked him what happened and Jack lugs in Gérard, who's screaming in French and covered in cactus needles."

The table erupted into laughter and Doctor Ziegler nodded, "We spent two hours getting all of the needles out."

"The worst two hours of my life," Gérard added, earning another series of laughs.

"The funniest of mine." Gabriel retorted before taking a drink.

They went around the remainder of the table, giving their favorite spiels. Everyone had long since finished their meals by the time the antics had settled down. Gérard covered the tab and the entire crew thanked him for his generosity. Amélie showed her gratitude once more for their presence at her show. The group got up and pushed in their chairs, filing out of the building with full stomachs and high spirits. Once outside, Gabriel looked at his watch. Angela glanced at it as well, taking note of how late it was. She hadn't taken into account how long she'd been away from her office. There was research to be done and she was itching to return to it. Still, she put on a happy face and joined in saying goodbye to Amélie.

"You'll have to invite us to the next show. The dancing was beautiful." Ana told her.

Amélie dipped her head in agreement and then received a massive hug from Reinhardt. When he released her, she ran a hand through her ponytail and turned her attention in Angela's direction. The corners of her eyes crinkled a bit as she allowed a half-smile to cross her lips.

"Are you still open to convincing Gérard to bring me around? Last chance." Amélie brought up.

"I love a challenge." Angela remarked, turning to look at the French man, "Gérard, why don't you bring Amélie to Headquarters? She hasn't met the rest of the family."

Gérard paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression materializing on his face. He couldn't seem to think of a reason not to. Jack stood a few feet away, watching the exchange with an unsatisfied look. Angela knew that he was only opposed to the idea because he didn't want gossip to get out about Gérard's marriage. He cared a lot about his comrade, but so did Angela. Still, she didn't see the harm in bringing Amélie around just once. After all, everyone was perfectly capable of keeping their mouths shut. They had done so all night, hadn't they?

"I suppose you're right." Gérard Lacroix admitted.

"You can show her around and introduce her to everyone. You'll be combining the two things you love the most." Gabriel chimed in, prompting Jack to scowl even harder.

"Alright, you've convinced me." He laughed, "I'll bring Amélie around sometime soon."

" _Génial_." The dark-haired woman hummed, "Thank you again for coming."

"Thank you for inviting me," Angela replied politely.

" _Au revoir_ , Doctor Ziegler." Amélie said with a small wave.


	2. II

"Rocket barrage, incoming!" Pharah shouted as she began bombarding a cluster of omnics with missiles.

When she ran out of rockets, she took off higher into the sky, propelled by the powerful jets of the Raptora suit. Jack began calling out the enemies that he spotted, raising alarm to the rest of the Overwatch team. Angela glanced to her left and spotted a foe approaching. She quickly took to the skies, following Fareeha and evading stray bullets. Despite being safer above ground, her heart was still racing and her hands still felt a bit clammy. She had been here a million times, but it still always felt like the first time. At least she knew she could get through it. All she had to do was white-knuckle her staff and try to distract herself from the sweat coating her palms until the fight was over. Opening her wings, she slowed herself amidst her descent and assessed the battle field. The way that things looked now, they outnumbered the enemy. However, it was only a matter of time before reinforcements showed up to the fight.

"Angela! Watch it! Reinforcements!" Fareeha shouted as a bullet zipped just beneath her feet.

Speak of the devil.

She pumped her wings and tried to match Pharah's height. The pair dodged numerous shots as they tried to maintain their altitude above the battle ground. Such a thing was easier said than done, so it wasn't a complete surprise when one of the wings of the Raptora was hit with a bullet. Fareeha began a total nosedive toward the Earth, firing an entire round of her rockets into the backline of the enemy. Just before she touched the ground, she fired a concussive blast into the dirt and stumbled a few feet as she landed. She flipped up the visor of her helmet and began speaking angrily in Arabic. Angela softly grounded herself and focused her healing beam on Reinhardt. As usual, he was bellowing with laughter and shouting encouragements at the enemy as they pelted his shield with bullets.

"Get behind me!" He called to Angela.

He didn't have to tell her twice. She hurried behind him and turned around to give Gabriel some healing as he took on a trio of flankers. The blasts from his shotguns outmatched the clunky bots and they hit the ground one by one. Gabriel began flanking on his own and Reinhardt took note of this. Within a moment's notice, he dropped his massive shield and swung his trusty hammer. A deafening boom filled everyone's ears as the ground cracked and sent a dozen null omnics to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, both Jack and Gabriel unleashed a flurry of shots upon the downed opponents. The air went silent and Jack stopped, looking around.

"That's the last of them." He breathed.

"Another glorious victory!" Reinhardt cheered, yanking off his helmet.

"Good job, team. Now, lets get the hell out of here." Morrison said sternly as he turned away and brought his finger to his com-piece.

* * *

It wasn't long before the portion of the Overwatch team had returned to the Headquarters. They had a quick debriefing and then resumed their usual routines. For Angela, this meant a shower, caffeine, then as much studying as humanly possible. She went about her ritual and was halfway through preparing herself a cup of coffee when she heard the familiar laugh of Ana Amari. Her eyes fell upon the older woman, who was accompanied by Amélie Lacroix. Angela picked up her mug and ambled to the pair. Ana greeted her with the typical grin and nod.

"Doctor Ziegler! Nice of you to stop by before you disappear into your office for the next week." Captain Amari joked, prompting a giggle from the French woman.

"It's the least I could do," Angela bantered back, "It's nice to see you again, Amélie. Has Ana been showing you around the headquarters?"

"Not yet. Captain Amari insisted on having some tea first. Care to join us?" Amélie offered.

The doctor hesitated, considering all of the research that she was eager to jump into. It would still be there if she chose to hang around for a bit… She shrugged her shoulders and nodded, a smile on her lips.

"I'd love to." Angela said as she sat down at the table with the two women.

"How did your mission go?" Ana inquired.

"It was a success. Everyone did well." Doctor Ziegler informed her as she brought her mug to her lips.

"And Fareeha?" She lifted her eyebrows.

"She's fine, Ana. Don't worry." The blonde woman chuckled, "We had a bit of a scare, but she's alright."

Angela was well-aware of the Amari policy, but she would still fill Ana or Fareeha in on what happened during a mission. The two never went on missions together because they were family. Ana said that it would distract her from the task at hand if she ever had to see Fareeha in danger. She never wanted her daughter to become a soldier in the first place, but Fareeha was far too stubborn to settle for a normal life. She was just like her mother.

"A scare?" Ana frowned, "Where is she?"

"She's _fine_ , Ana. Probably fixing up the Raptora as we speak." Angela said calmly.

"I'm just going to go check on her. You can keep Amélie company." Captain Amari left her tea on the table as she got out of her seat and briskly exited the room.

Amélie took a sip of tea before softly clearing her throat, "Fareeha is okay, right?"

"Of course she is. I would never lie to Ana, she would shoot me if I did." The doctor exaggerated, provoking a giggle from Amélie.

"She seems nice enough." Amélie noted.

"Oh, yes. She treats everyone like family." Angela explained cheerfully as she drummed her nails on her mug.

"Are there any other family members stationed here? Other than the Amaris?" She asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"We have a few siblings, but that's it. Fareeha and Ana are unique." Angela told her, "I'd imagine it's tough to have family in the service."

"I'm sure that's how your family feels." Amélie added.

Angela shook her head and set her mug on the table, folding her arms over her chest, "I don't have any family. My parents passed away when I was very young."

"Oh, Angela, I'm so sorry. That is terrible." The French woman placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What about you?" Angela quickly altered the subject, "How do you feel about Gérard being a part of Overwatch?"

There it was again. The sudden change in body language. Angela watched as Amélie shifted in her seat and wrapped a hand around her tea cup. She took a small drink before relaxing her shoulders and running a hand through her long ponytail.

"I just want him to be careful, I suppose." She answered, looking at the table.

"Don't we all." The doctor agreed, "Speaking of which, where is Gérard?"

"He was supposed to show me around, but he got called to go some place. I feel bad since he dropped me in Ana's lap. The poor woman probably has better things to do than babysit me." Amélie told her with a small shrug.

Angela could hardly believe her ears. Babysit? Amélie Lacroix? She was friendly and confident and bright. It was incredibly easy to speak to her and she was an excellent listener. How could Amélie think of herself as some sort of burden? That in itself was an injustice. Angela stood up and smoothed out her lab coat.

"Don't be ridiculous. Come on, I'll show you around. I'm guessing Ana will be a while." The Swiss woman suggested.

"You take the lead," Amélie smiled as she got to her feet.

Angela began her tour of the Overwatch headquarters, minus the confidential rooms. She showed her the shooting range, the laboratory, the living quarters, and even the debriefing room. They explored the base and made conversation, enjoying each other's company. It became clear to Angela that Amélie didn't get to speak to many people aside from her family, Gérard, and the people that she danced with. The way that Amélie invested herself in the little tour and their talks was refreshing to Angela. It was nice to have contact with a human being outside of Overwatch.

"So, where do you work?" Amélie questioned, walking alongside the doctor.

"Wherever the team goes. Otherwise, I'm in my office or the lab." Angela said as they entered an elevator.

"You get an office and living quarters?"

The blonde woman pressed a button on the wall panel before nodding, "Yes, but I practically live in my office."

"Do you have a bed in there or something?" Amélie laughed.

"No, but I have a couch." Angela said, causing Amélie to laugh even harder.

"You work too much, Doctor Ziegler." She told her.

Angela paused for a moment. A thoughtful expression crossed her face for a fraction of a second as she watched the elevator doors slide shut.

"Call me Angela," The doctor insisted, "All of Overwatch calls me 'Doctor Ziegler'."

"You don't like to be called Doctor Ziegler, then?"

"I don't have a problem with it," Angela stopped for a moment, "But I don't want to be 'Doctor Ziegler' to you. I just want to be Angela."

Amélie looked at her pensively. She seemed to understand what Angela meant. Of course she didn't want to be Doctor Ziegler to the first friend she had made outside of Overwatch in ages. If she had met some random person on the street, she would have introduced herself as Angela, not Doctor Ziegler. For the first time in a very long time, she simply wanted to be Angela.

"Alright, Angela." Amélie responded, eliciting a smile from the other woman.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a distressed Fareeha in the hallway. She looked at Angela and furrowed her brow.

"What did you tell my mother?" She demanded.

"I told her about the mission. Why?"

"I was trying to fix the Raptora and she came in and started lecturing me about being careful. The only reason I got away was because Reinhardt came in looking for something." Fareeha sighed.

"My bad," Angela said as she stifled a laugh.

"We tried our best to hold her back." Amélie added with a grin.

"Well, I'm glad you two have been having so much fun." Fareeha said dryly as she slipped past them and entered the elevator.

The doors slid shut and the two women shared a laugh as they started down the hallway. Outside the headquarters, the sun was beginning to descend behind the mountains and the sky was a spectacular mixture of orange and pink. It made Angela glad that there were so many large windows at the base. Switzerland was truly beautiful. Her eyes were glued to the windows as they made their way back to the mess hall so Angela could fix herself another mug of coffee. She would have to have a few more cups if she was going to catch up on her research tonight. The pair hung around the kitchen, waiting on the coffee maker. Amélie leaned back against the counter and watched as the blonde woman searched the fridge for her favorite coffee creamer.

"Do you ever drink water?" Amélie teased.

"Sometimes," Angela quipped, "But water doesn't cut it for an all-nighter."

"Do you ever sleep?" The French woman retorted.

"What's your record for most consecutive amount of questions asked?" The doctor wisecracked.

"So sassy," Amélie commented, a hint of admiration in her tone.

"Yes, well-"

"Good to see you've found a friend, Amé. I should've known you two would hit it off." A chipper voice called from the other end of the kitchen.

Their heads turned simultaneously to see Gérard, still adorning his full battle gear. He smiled wide and walked over to his wife, hugging her tight and giving her a peck on the forehead. Amélie gave him a measly half smile, but he had already turned his attention to Angela.

"Doctor Ziegler, I appreciate you being so kind to Amélie," He told her, turning back to his wife, "I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly, but I promise it won't happen again."

"Is she coming around again?" Angela couldn't help but ask.

"If she doesn't mind, I don't. Besides, it was nice to see her face after coming back from a mission. I could get used to it." Gérard gushed.

"I wouldn't mind coming back. Angela didn't get to finish our tour," Amélie said as a smirk threatened to cross her face.

"I didn't?" Angela echoed.

"Then I suppose another visit is in order." Gérard presumed, "Thank you again, Doctor Ziegler."

"It was really no trouble. We had a nice time." Angela told him, watching as Amélie nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad to hear it… Amélie, we should get you home. I'll go get changed." He said as he walked off.

"I didn't get to finish the tour?" Angela posed the question with her eyebrows raised.

"I didn't get to see your office. And you didn't even let me shoot a gun at the range!" Amélie answered with a devious smile on her lips.

"I suppose we can make arrangements." The doctor jested, faking disinterest.

Amélie stepped forward and pulled the smaller woman into a hug. She froze for a moment before embracing Amélie.

"Thank you, Angela."

* * *

It had been nearly two weeks since Amélie's first visit to Overwatch HQ. In that time, Angela had burned through three books about nanobots and had filled an entire journal with new schematics and possibilities. She had been so wrapped up in her research that she had barely spoken to any of her comrades. That, and they knew better than to try to talk to the doctor when she had her nose in a book. But Angela could be flexible. And that's exactly what she was when Amélie Lacroix appeared in the mess hall and asked her to take her to the shooting range. She knew very well that Amélie could have asked any other member of Overwatch to take her—even Gérard, who had probably led her all the way to the mess hall—but she still asked Angela. So, Doctor Ziegler temporarily abandoned her studies and lead her to the range. How could she say no?

"This one is yours?" Amélie asked, cautiously picking up an earlier model of the Caduceus pistol.

Angela nodded, "Mhm. It has received a few upgrades since then, though."

The French woman turned the gun over in her hands, examining the weapon. She pretended to take aim with it and then lowered it, turning it over in her palm once more. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Angela looked at her expectantly. Amélie simply handed the gun back to Angela and continued walking through the arsenal of the shooting range.

"What's so funny?" Angela demanded, her brows knitting closer together.

"It's tiny." Amélie responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

" _So_?" The doctor challenged as she returned the handgun to the rack.

"Can that even cause any harm?" Amélie raised the question with a small laugh.

"It does a surprising amount of damage!" Angela said defensively.

"Sure it does," She snickered and came to a halt before a large sniper rifle.

Angela stopped beside her and took a moment to admire the weapon for herself. It was a steel rifle with a black finish, topped with a large scope. She had seen Captain Amari playing with it a few times, but she had never handled it herself. Why would she? All she needed was the Caduceus pistol. And even that felt like a little much sometimes.

"I want to shoot that one." Amélie decided.

"Are you sure? It's pretty heavy." Angela warned her, watching as Amélie reached out and ran her fingertips over the barrel.

"I'm a big girl, Angela." Amélie taunted as she lifted the rifle.

She visibly realized how hefty the weapon was, but quickly shrugged it off and carried it to one of the stalls. Amélie put on the pair of bright orange headphones that hung from a hook on the side of the stall. She stood with her legs shoulder width apart and then looked to Angela for further guidance. The blonde woman approached her and instructed her on how to hold the weapon. Angela positioned the butt of sniper rifle in the pocket of her shoulder and lightly pressed her cheek against the stock. She closed one of her eyes, peering through the scope with the other. Angela took a few steps back and folded her arms.

"Just take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger when you're ready." She instructed.

It was silent as Angela observed Amélie lining up her shot. A small crease formed between her eyebrows as she focused in on the sight. Her short ponytail swayed ever so slightly as she adjusted her stance. Then, her finger found the trigger and pulled it. At the end of the range, a target now had a small hole on its outermost ring. Amélie wore a shocked expression as she lowered the gun and pulled the headphones off.

" _Sainte merde_!" She breathed, handing the weapon off to Angela.

"Packs a punch, doesn't it?" Angela chuckled and put the rifle back.

"I've never fired a gun like that before," Amélie told her, "It's exhilarating."

"Don't tell Ana you think that, or she'll try to recruit you." The doctor said jokingly.

"With that aim?" Amélie pointed to the target, "She would be better off recruiting the blind."

The blonde shrugged her shoulders, "I suppose you'll never be a professional sniper, then."

"My dream career, taken from my hands before I could even begin." The French woman feigned disappointment as she dramatically placed her palm on her chest.

"You'll just have to settle for being a dancer," Angela bantered, trying not to grin.

"Oh, _anything_ but that." Amélie shook her head.

"How long have you been dancing?" Angela wanted to know.

"Since I could walk," She said, following the doctor out of the range, "I still have my first pair of ballet shoes."

"Wow."

"There's just something about being on the stage, knowing all of the eyes are on you… I don't know… It's… _Merveilleux_." Amélie went on.

Angela admired how passionate she was about dancing. The way that her eyes lit up when she spoke about it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Even when she had first watched Amélie perform and embody a character outside of herself, it was evident that she had a peerless love for what she did. She imagined that for Amélie, presenting her choreography to an audience was just as intoxicating as the thrill of a successful operation.

"It's marvelous to watch," Angela told her, provoking a proud beam to find its way onto Amélie's lips.

"I have a show coming up in two weeks, it's Anastasia. It's my last performance in Switzerland before I leave for England to dance in another production. I would love it if you came." Amélie offered the invitation with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"Absolutely." Doctor Ziegler nodded excitedly.

The rest of Amélie's visit consisted of stories from their childhoods. Some of Amélie's were about ballet, some were not. Either way, Angela didn't care. She simply couldn't get enough of hearing her talk. Maybe it was the accent. Or perhaps it was the way that she spoke with her hands. Whatever it was, it made her listen. It even made her want to hear more. She learned about Amélie's first dance recital and the time that she fell off of the stage during an audition. She listened attentively to tales of a mischievous, teenage Amélie that she could hardly believe existed at one point in time. Angela told her about the time that she had fainted during her first surgery and the time that she had accidentally spilled coffee on a patient after an all-nighter. They hadn't even noticed how much time had passed when Gérard came knocking on the door to Angela's office.

"It's open," Angela called.

Gérard stepped in and looked around the office for a moment. He was probably trying to comprehend the mess that sat before him. There were books strewn all over the place, with the occasional coffee mug thrown into the mix. Not only that, but there were also crumpled pieces of notebook paper overflowing from the trash can in the corner of the room. It looked more like a college dormitory than a medical professional's office. He looked to his wife and rested his hand on the door knob.

"There you are," He said, "Let's go, we still have some things to move."

"Ah, it must have slipped my mind." Amélie replied as she rose from Angela's prized sofa.

"You didn't tell me you were moving, Gérard." Angela stood as well.

"I didn't think to. You know this place is like my home, Angie," He laughed, "I just figured it would be best if I moved Amélie closer to HQ. She was staying with her parents until we could find some place. Now we just have to finish moving in the last of her things."

"Is it nice?" The doctor asked.

"It's lovely." Amélie told her.

"Yes, maybe we'll have a house warming party." Gérard suggested, "Imagine all of Overwatch in that little townhouse."

He laughed and Angela smiled at the idea of all of them crammed into a tiny house. What a ridiculous image. Amélie gathered her coat and her purse and joined her husband. He placed an arm around her and waved to Angela.

"See you tomorrow, Doctor Ziegler." He said.

" _Au revoir_ , Angela." Amélie bid her farewell just before the door closed behind her.

* * *

Angela shook her head as she cleaned off Fareeha's bloody leg. The skin from her knee down to her ankle had been scratched up by the asphalt at the basketball court outside. Fareeha watched with a stupid grin on her face as the doctor tossed the blood-stained wipes into the trash can beside her desk. She reached into her little first aid kit and pulled out a single band-aid for a portion of the scrape that wouldn't stop bleeding. Carefully, she peeled off the plastic and applied the adhesive bandage to Fareeha's skin. She threw out the wrapper and shut the little first aid kit, tucking it back into the bottom drawer of her desk. This was a ritual that hadn't happened in quite some time. Ever since Fareeha had picked up a basketball, she had come running into Angela's office with different assortments of scrapes and cuts for her to patch up. Of course, now these visits were a lot less frequent. But that didn't change the fact that Fareeha got a kick out of making Angela play doctor.

"What was it this time?" The Swiss woman asked as she nudged Fareeha to get off of her desk.

Fareeha hopped down and examined her leg, "I just tripped over my own feet."

Angela couldn't help but laugh. She shook her head and returned behind her desk, sitting down in her office chair and leaning back ever-so-slightly. She picked up her book and continued reading where she had left off. Fareeha hesitated for a moment, looked toward the door, then looked back at Angela.

"Jack and my mom are fighting again." She sighed.

"What about?" Angela asked, turning a page.

"The Japanese government is complaining about Blackwatch again… And now they've got the majority of Asia in on it, too. Gabriel and Jack had a big argument about it and now Jack and my mom are going at each other's throats." Fareeha explained.

"People don't understand that we just want to help." She added, "The world is in a panic right now."

"I'm worried that Overwatch will get into trouble." The Egyptian woman admitted.

"We'll be alright, Fareeha. Don't worry." Angela reassured her with a kind smile.

* * *

The seat beside Angela was empty, save for the bouquet of white roses that sat where Gérard was supposed to have been sitting. Angela figured she would pick them up after she received a frantic call from Gérard, saying that he had to attend a meeting with government officials from who-knows-where. Despite being alone, Angela was more than happy to be attending another one of Amélie's shows. The familiar sudden hush of the audience brought about excitement for her. The dimming of the lights and the soft flow of music from beneath the stage only added to that feeling. She crossed her legs and straightened her back as the stage lights came on. They were a strange shade of blue, projecting directly onto what appeared to be two doctors and a patient sitting on the edge of a bed. Two groups of dancers looked on as the patient sat on her bed, staring blankly into the distance.

It was Amélie. She wore a mint green gown and sat as still as a statue while the stage cleared for a moment. Then, a group of soldiers crossed the stage, surrounding a man that held a small child. They pointed their guns at the pair and commanded him to sit down. A woman ran to them, but was pushed to the ground by two of the soldiers. More and more women ran out onto the stage, only to be corralled by more soldiers. And still, Amélie sat. Gunshots rang out through the theatre and one by one, the dancers fell. Angela jumped in her seat, surprised by the sudden change in events. Only then did Amélie rise to her feet and run to the front of the stage. She cried out as they dragged the "bodies" offstage. Then, the stage went black and a small, dim spotlight followed her. The doctors returned, as did the two groups of dancers from before.

This time, though, they brought chairs. They lined them up and sat in them, Amélie sitting in the middle. With their backs to the crowd, the lights were slowly brightened and aged war footage was projected on the back wall of the stage. Amélie pointed at the screen and rose from her seat. She returned to her bed and took hold of the iron headboard with a single hand. For a moment, she acted as though she was sobbing. Then, as the lights revealed another character on stage, she got up and moved about awkwardly. She looked as if she was taking her first steps. However, she swiftly turned around a few times and began to carry her body in tune with the music.

She was astonishingly elegant, but her movements conveyed a sort of harshness. Every second that she was on stage, she was the center of Angela's attention. Her eyes followed every twist and turn that Amélie executed flawlessly. She carried herself around the stage with confidence and poise that made it impossible to look away from her. Seeing Amélie perform made Angela feel… Giddy. She could hardly believe that "giddy" was the only word for her to make sense of how she was feeling, but it was true. At the end of the performance, she was the first in the audience to stand up and start applauding. The entire audience joined in and some people even tossed flowers onto the stage as the dancers bowed. The lights came back on in the theatre as the dancers left the stage. Angela gathered her purse and the bouquet of roses before setting off to find Amélie. She was somewhat lost, so it was even more terrifying when she felt a hand close around her arm.

She whirled around, ready to throw a punch at her attacker, but was surprised to see Amélie staring back at her. A mischievous look was painted across her face, as well as some smudged stage make up. Angela didn't have time to apologize for almost uppercutting her as she yanked her into a hug. Angela hugged her back and then offered her the bouquet. Amélie graciously took it in her hands and smiled.

"They're beautiful, Angela. _Merci_." She said, looking at the flowers.

"I'm glad you like them," Angela replied, "Gérard couldn't make it. He wanted me to let you know."

"Do you want to go get a drink?" Amélie asked.

Angela was a tad thrown off by her offer. Did she hear what she had just told her? She expected her to at least acknowledge the absence of her husband. But perhaps it was better not to ask questions. She blinked hard at Amélie, then gave a small nod.

"Sure, I'd love to."

"Bien! I'm going to go change. I'll meet you outside." Amélie told her before slipping back to her dressing room.

Angela shuffled past the remaining guests and stood outside. She reflected on the night that she had first seen Amélie dance. The memories of that entire evening would stick with her forever. She had truly enjoyed herself and the company of her friends. She was glad to have the opportunity to see another show and feel that sense of euphoria again. That false sense of normality was more refreshing than any amount of sleep. It was nice when things felt okay.

"Ready?" Amélie asked as she joined her.

Her face was bare now. It was the first time Angela had seen her without makeup. Even without contour, the angles of her face were still prominent. She had high cheekbones with a natural blush to them. Without mascara, her eyelashes were still long and perfectly framed her big, dark eyes. And of course, her hair was pulled up into the usual short ponytail. She was the epitome of beauty. The doctor couldn't identify the feeling in her gut. Envy, perhaps? Angela felt herself staring and quickly shifted her gaze to the street.

"Where are we going?"

"My favorite bar. I think you'll love it." Amélie said as she hailed a cab.

The two women got into the backseat and Amélie placed the bouquet of roses on the seat between them. She placed her dance bag on the floor by her feet and told the driver their destination. He simply nodded and pulled back into the flow of traffic. Quiet music with the addition of occasional static filled the inside of the taxi. Angela gazed out the window and looked down every street they passed. Eventually, they took a right and pulled to a stop outside of a brick building with a large, neon sign. A few people loitered out front, some of them smoking cigarettes. Music from inside the bar could be heard on the street and even the sound of the rowdier patrons. Amélie gathered her things as they got out of the cab. Angela insisted on paying for the ride until Amélie finally gave up and let her. Then, they entered the building.

Inside, a band performed live on a tiny stage while people danced in front of them. At the other end of the room, people ordered drinks and hung around at the bar. There were a few booths and tables set up as well, but it seemed like everyone was far too interested in the band to sit still. Angela followed Amélie to a booth where they set their things down. Angela scooted into the booth and watched the festivities as Amélie said she would go get drinks. The band played with excitement and the audience danced feverishly. It was really quite the spectacle. Amélie quickly returned with two jars containing clear liquid. A strange, white fog flowed from the top of the drink and over Amélie's hand as she set the jar in front of Angela. Angela looked at her expectantly, as though she was waiting for her to explain what she was about to drink.

Of course, she received no such explanation as Amélie began to drink from her own jar. She set it down before her and gave Angela a winning smile. The doctor picked up the glass and looked down at it cautiously. She slowly brought it to her lips and took a sip. To her surprise, whatever she had just ingested was pretty fucking good. She took another drink and looked at Amélie.

"What is this?" She asked.

"I can't tell you." Amélie said nonchalantly as she took a drink.

"What? Why not?" Angela demanded.

"Because if I don't tell you, you'll have to bring me along when you come back here for another one." She smirked.

Angela laughed and shook her head. She couldn't argue with that. The two finished their drinks, then ordered more. Angela lost track of how many times this cycle went on, but she didn't care. She was having a good time. She and Amélie talked and laughed and Angela raved about her performance. She even apologized for Gérard's lack of attendance. This caused a scowl to cross Amélie's face.

"He's always busy, Angela. _Je m'en fous_. I am fine on my own." She grumbled, "I don't want to talk about Gérard right now, anyway."

The duo were silent for a moment before Amélie stood up, "Let's dance!"

"I'm a terrible dancer." Angela said, taking a drink.

"Come on. Please?" Amélie pleaded as she gave Angela's shoulder a small shake.

Angela set her glass on the table and looked up at Amélie. She really wanted to dance. Who was Angela to stand in the way of that? She made sure to give a loud, exaggerated sigh as she stood up. Amélie's face lit up and they crossed the bar to the crowd. The band was in the middle of an upbeat, fast-paced song. Amélie had no problem jumping in and moving to the rhythm, but Angela imagined that she must have looked like a fish out of water. Thankfully, the alcohol made the situation a lot more bearable, and even a bit comedic. It was only a matter of time before the two of them were laughing hysterically at their drunken dance moves. Angela hadn't been drunk in a long time. Which was funny, considering the fact that most people her age would frequent bars and get drunk regularly. At least she could get a peek of what that was like every once in a while. The songs suddenly switched from swift and jaunty, to slow and smooth. The chatter in the bar got quieter as a number of patrons left the dance floor. Meanwhile, others found partners and settled into a leisurely sway.

Amélie extended a hand to Angela with that familiar, unrestrained smirk that she wore so often. Angela took her hand and the French woman lead her across the floor. At first, the doctor was tense and stiff, but Amélie carried her through the motions with ease. Eventually she was able to relax and even enjoy the dance. The cool voice of the singer seemed to make everyone unwind. Angela stumbled a bit, put off by the fuzziness of her vision. Amélie giggled and stepped a bit closer as Angela tried to maintain her balance. The hand that once held Angela's made its way to her waist as they stepped in time with one another. Angela's arms began to feel awkward and she absent-mindedly wrapped them around Amélie's neck, looking at the other pairings that danced around them.

"Do you think these people come here a lot?" Angela wondered aloud.

" _Peut-être_ ," Amélie looked over Angela's shoulder for a moment, "I'm sure some of them do."

"I would come here a lot. It's nice." She told Amélie, her speech a tad slurred.

"I told you you would like it." The dark-haired woman teased.

"I wish they would put a bar in the mess hall at Headquarters." Angela admitted, prompting Amélie to laugh.

"Please, _chérie_. That would be such a waste. We both know you would only touch the wine." Amélie teased.

"Wine is not a waste!"

"No, of course not. I like a glass of wine every now and then." Amélie told her.

"We should drink wine sometime." Angela suggested, a stupid grin on her face.

"That would be nice," The dancer chuckled as she swayed.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight." She blurted out.

"No need to thank me. I'm happy you attended." Amélie said as they stepped from side to side.

"It makes me feel normal." She told Amélie, although she wasn't really sure what she meant.

Sober Angela was probably smashing her head against a wall somewhere deep in her subconscious mind. At least alcohol was a good scapegoat for anything stupid that she said or did. Like that time that Fareeha talked her into going to karaoke on Halloween night and she ended up so hammered that she performed the entire "Ghost Busters" theme song on top of a table. Or the time that Gabriel had to drag her, while she was kicking and screaming, out of a wine tasting room because she had had too many glasses of wine and was trying to steal everybody else's. In summary, she often viewed being drunk as somewhat of a "get-out-of-jail-free" card to her own actions. Needless to say, it wasn't the best way of looking at it, but it certainly helped to ease her conscience.

"Normal?" Amélie echoed.

"Yes. You are the first friend I've made in a very long time." Angela confessed.

"It sounds like you really should get out more, Doctor Ziegler." The dark haired woman taunted as the corners of her lips turned upward.

"I suppose I should." Angela remarked coyly.

* * *

The idea had been getting tossed around for ages and now it had been getting argued over for almost a week. Doctor Angela Ziegler and Engineer Torbjörn Lindholm sat beside one another, both wearing the same frustrated expression. Winston stood at the end of the table and adjusted his glasses as he listened to Captain Amari's spiel, which is what had the two so worked up in the first place. In the doorway of the research lab, Gabriel Reyes hung around and did some not-so-discreet eavesdropping. The sniper slammed her rifle that had been decorated with various notches throughout the years onto the table before the group and gestured with her hands as she spoke.

"This could change the tide of combat!" Captain Amari exclaimed, clearly just as vexed as the two she was arguing with.

"I refuse to utilize the nanotechnology to harm others. The biotic rifle will undoubtedly be successful in the field, but only if used to heal." Angela shook her head.

"I agree with Doctor Ziegler," Torbjörn said, "We took a big risk just making the thing in the first place."

"But it will make things exponentially easier for our medics. They can heal and defend themselves." She insisted, pointing to her rifle.

"Captain Amari, you raise some valid points, but it cannot be done. If we were to go through with the idea and engineer anti-healing nanobots, imagine the repercussions once that news went public. The world would be terrified of us wielding that kind of technology. They're already questioning us now!" Torbjörn reminded her.

"People are only afraid of what they don't understand, Torbjörn. If we could-"

"It's unethical." Angela said sternly, "I refuse."

"War is unethical, Doctor Ziegler. All of it." Captain Amari growled.

"That doesn't change the fact that we created those nanobots to better medical technology and help people. Not to make it easier to gut them like fish. I refuse to use such a powerful technology for something like that." The blonde woman said, her voice growing a bit louder.

Winston cleared his throat nervously and Captain Amari furrowed her brow, "I see that you both have a very solid stance on this, then… I cannot say I'm surprised, but it was worth a shot. Meeting adjourned."

"I took an oath, Captain Amari. I do not intend on ever breaking it." Angela told her as she got out of her seat and exited the room.

As she swiftly rounded the corner, Gabriel started after her and matched her pace. Her fists were clenched just as tightly as her jaw. Reyes stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled lightly.

"It's always a treat to watch the most stubborn figures in the organization go at it."

"Altering perfectly good technology to harm others… What a foolish idea…" Angela muttered under her breath, "That would _really_ make us look good."

"Then it's a good thing you shut it down before it could happen." Gabe reminded her, trying to cool her off.

" _Völlig lächerlich_ ," She breathed as she jabbed the button to call the elevator.

"I agree," Gabriel said, coaxing a smile out of Angela.

Every time she would speak in German around him, he would say the same damn thing. And every time, it could still get a smile or even a laugh out of her. Most of the time it was the delivery of the line that got her. The fact that he said it in the same plain, serious voice every time was enough to make it laugh-worthy.

Noticing that he had effectively calmed down the doctor, Gabriel started again, "Say, what are your plans tonight?"

"I have a date with my notes. Why?" She asked as she stepped into the elevator.

"Jesse and I wanted to go out for drinks and I figured you could probably use a couple, too." He grinned, following suit.

"Hmm…" Angela put on a thoughtful expression.

"I'm buying." Gabe added.

"Then I'm in." She replied.

"I knew you'd be. I'll let Jesse know and-" He paused in the middle of his sentence, a grimace replacing his smile as his finger found its way to his com-piece.

"Looks like we'll have to reschedule." She sighed as she settled into the corner of the elevator.

"Lacroix's got a new lead on Talon… This could be big." Reyes said, clearly pleased with what he had heard on his coms.

"Have fun out there. Bring me back a postcard." Angela joked as the ride came to a halt.

"Always," He nodded as she exited the elevator, "Good luck finding new plans."

* * *

She did find new plans. Albeit completely on accident, Angela had gotten something to do aside from drowning in research. She was doing exactly that when her phone started ringing. And she was pleasantly surprised to hear a familiar French accent on the other line. Amélie asked her to come over and help her finish a bottle of wine. A few moments later, she received the address of the new place and by then she had decided that she had no excuse to not go. The doctor set her things aside and left the office, still wearing her lab coat. When she arrived at the quaint townhouse, which was about a half hour away from the Overwatch Headquarters, she checked her messages multiple times to make sure she was at the right place. Then, when she was finally completely sure that she had followed the directions correctly, she approached the front door and knocked.

Amélie pulled the door open and handed Angela a glass of wine before she could even come inside. She smiled and waved her in, eager to show her around. It had a bit of an aged feel to it, but it was incredibly nice. The floors were dark oak wood and they complimented the walls of each room nicely. The living room was a warm red color and the kitchen was a light grey. There was a staircase beside the kitchen that lead up to a small hallway, which connected to the master bedroom and bathroom. The only other bedroom in the townhouse was being used as an office for Gérard. It was a lovely little home. After their brief tour, they found themselves in the kitchen again.

"It's a lot quieter out here than in Paris." Amélie told Angela, "I imagine I'll miss it when I'm in London."

"You like the quiet?" Angela asked, taking a sip of wine.

"It's a nice change." She nodded, "I imagine that you don't get much quiet time at the Headquarters."

"The quiet scares me, actually." The doctor admitted.

" _Scares_? _You_?" Amélie echoed, as if Angela being scared of something was completely unbelievable.

"Er… Well, it doesn't scare me… I guess I just find it rather unsettling." She elaborated.

"Why?" She quirked a brow.

"It usually means that something has gone wrong… Or that something is about to go wrong." Angela elaborated, already finishing off her first glass.

The French woman laughed, "I guess I never thought of that."

"You act like I'm some sort of fearless daredevil," Angela exaggerated as she poured more wine into her cup.

"We're all afraid of something… But, I think you have to be at least a little crazy, _non_?" Amélie began with the rim of the glass pressed to her lips, "To be okay with cutting people up and charging into battle and all of that sort of stuff."

Angela raised her eyebrows, "When you put it that way, I definitely sound a little crazy."

"Don't worry, I still like you." Amélie said, giving her a playful wink.

It took everything in the doctor's body to stop herself from choking on her wine. She swallowed hard and took a shallow breath in an effort to prevent a coughing fit. She laughed awkwardly, quickly taking another drink from her glass.

"I'm glad to hear it." She replied in a somewhat hoarse voice.

Amélie waltzed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Her wine glass hung between her finger tips, still half full. She turned on some music and smiled to herself as she settled down on the sofa. Folding her legs, she took a sip from her glass and patted the empty space beside her. Angela walked into the living room after her, sitting down and sinking into the plushy cushion. Amélie stared into her drink for a while before she looked up at Angela and cocked her head.

"I saw a story about Overwatch on the news today," She began.

"Oh?" Angela responded.

"Yes. They aren't too happy with all of you." Amélie paused, "I think it's simple to pass judgement on the organization as a whole. But none of these people know anything about any of you."

"People are afraid. They don't know who to turn to now that there are so many outlets painting us as criminals." Doctor Ziegler sighed.

"I don't see what there is to be afraid of. I trust you. All of you." She told her.

"If only everyone felt that way, hm?" Angela said with a half-hearted smile.

"If only." Amélie repeated, finishing off her glass.

"I don't suppose you've given any thought to joining Overwatch after you get tired of ballet, then?" Angela inquired jokingly.

"You're hilarious," Amélie said dryly, although her weak attempt at hiding a smile caused Angela to grin back at her, "Perhaps you can let me play doctor and I'll let you borrow a pair of ballet slippers."

"I must say, it sounds like a pretty even trade," The blonde woman replied, earning a laugh from Amélie.

She couldn't keep herself from taking note of every little thing that Amélie did when she laughed. Hearing her laughter made her feel warm and fuzzy, or maybe that was just the wine. But buzzed or not, she always appreciated the little crows feet that formed by Amélie's eyes when she smiled. Or the way that she would sometimes try to cover her mouth to hold back a giggle. Noticing things like that gave Angela a strange cocktail of feelings… One minute, it was a pleasant, fleeting thing and in the next it was an envious, angry thing. She wondered if Gérard ever noticed the things that she did. She wondered if he even appreciated them. And if he did, did he appreciate them as much as she did? Probably not, since he was never around… Angela's brows drew closer together as she slouched a bit. Amélie had long since stopped laughing and was now looking directly at her.

"Do you ever get lonely?" Amélie asked, as if she had been reading the doctor's mind.

Angela shifted anxiously for a moment, "I… Well… Like any other human being, sure."

"I like being alone every once in a while, but lately… It feels more like a burden." She explained, looking down at her hands.

"It must be all the quiet." Doctor Ziegler said with a nervous chuckle.

"Perhaps…" Amélie trailed off briefly, "It's nice having you around. It feels a lot less lonely."

"I'm always happy to come around." Angela replied with a genuine smile.

As her gaze shifted to her once again empty glass, she felt Amélie's eyes still fixated on her. She rose to her feet to retrieve the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter, but stopped after a few steps when Amélie caught her wrist. Her long, slender fingers closed around Angela's skin and caused her to turn around and look back at the French woman. She was leaning forward on the couch with a distraught look about her. A small crease had formed between her eyebrows and she looked like she was fighting back tears. Angela felt her heart sink in her chest as she looked at her.


	3. III

She hadn't stopped thinking about that exchange since it happened. Even after a long shower and a dose of NyQuil, she was still lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Earlier she had actually bothered to close her eyes only to end up tossing and turning for hours. The weirdest part? She had actually gone to her private quarters and gotten into bed. Maybe she couldn't sleep because she wasn't on her beloved couch. Angela rolled over and looked at the time. It was already three in the morning. She tossed back the covers and got out of bed, heading toward the door. She abandoned her private quarters and started down the long hall toward her office. As she journeyed through the silence of the base, she continued bouncing thoughts from the evening around the inside of her skull.

Why did she apologize so many times after she had broken down? The way that Amélie had looked at her… It was almost painful. The way that Angela instinctively pulled Amélie into her arms and held her there until she stopped crying… It was instinctual from years of comforting patients, but what if she took it as something more? Would she even take it as something more? Why did she find herself hoping for Amélie to interpret it with a different meaning? The doctor shook her head, trying to stop herself from imagining such nonsense as she arrived at the wing of the building with her office. At the end of the hallway, Gabriel was walking in her direction. He sported his favorite black sweatshirt with the hood flipped up onto his head, as usual. He looked utterly exhausted, but he perked up at the sight of his friend.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, gesturing to the massive windows on the wall, "It's the ass crack of the ass crack of dawn."

"I couldn't sleep." She said, reaching her office door.

"Not even on your magic sofa?" Gabriel replied with a grin.

"I'm about to try and hope for the best." Angela told him as she unlocked the door via the fingerprint scanning panel on the wall.

"Wait, you mean you actually tried to sleep in a bed?" He inquired, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

The doctor only nodded as she opened up the office door. A small streak of light crept into the otherwise blacked out room. It illuminated the mess that never left the floor and gave a peek into the collection of dirty coffee mugs that were scattered in strange places throughout the room. Gabriel scratched the back of his neck and looked hard at Angela.

"Are you okay? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine, Gabe." She reassured him, "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay… Come and get me if you need anything." Gabriel told her with genuine concern.

She nodded again and stepped into her office, closing the door behind her. The doctor blindly ventured to the couch and sprawled out across it. She grabbed the blanket that was draped over the cushions and pulled it atop her, closing her eyes and rolling onto her side. Instantly, she felt much more comfortable and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. The quiet occasional footsteps in the hallway outside of her office helped to lull her to sleep. Even though she had finally pushed back her thoughts of Amélie, they crept back into Angela's unconscious mind and she saw her in her dreams.

* * *

It was one thing that Angela had drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Amélie in her mind, but it was another that she dreamt up all sorts of false realities in which she could justify her crush on the married woman. Yes, only a few hours after waking up, she had now diagnosed that fluttering feeling in her chest whenever Amélie giggled as a crush. She had also shuddered when she figured out that the only word that could fit what she was experiencing was "crush". Now, though, she trudged through the mess hall toward the coffee maker with her favorite novelty mug. It was a hideous little mug that was made to look like a prescription pill bottle, comedically labeled "coffee" across the front, but she loved it nonetheless. As she picked up the coffee pot, she heard her name being called.

"Doctor Ziegler!" Gérard Lacroix shouted as he scrambled into the mess hall.

Oh, great.

Angela tried to ignore the small spike in her pulse as she turned around and greeted Gérard with a warm smile, "Good morning."

"I think you mean afternoon," He said, looking down at his watch.

"Is it really afternoon already?" The doctor asked in disbelief, stealing a glance at his watch.

Her eyes fixed on the digital numbers. It was half past two o'clock. She frowned ever so slightly as her gaze trailed down toward the wedding band around Gérard's finger. Thankfully, she snapped out of it as soon as he spoke up again.

"I'm afraid so, Doctor. Anyway, I wanted to let you know how thankful I am that you've been such a good friend to Amélie. And I also wanted to extend an invitation." The French man said cheerfully.

"Oh? To what?" Angela pondered aloud, taking a sip of coffee.

"It's a surprise going-away party for Amélie, before she leaves for England." He explained, "I'd love it if you could come and I know she would too. Gabriel will be attending and perhaps a few others."

"I'll be there," She told him, "When?"

"Wednesday night. We're all going to the house to get things ready and then once she gets back from ballet practice, we'll jump out and surprise her!" Gérard explained, a cheeky grin on his face, "I'll send you the address so you don't get lost."

Angela nodded awkwardly, realizing that Gérard had no idea that she had just been there last night. Did he even know how frequently she and Amélie had been around each other? Did she ever bother to tell him? If she didn't, why? What was she trying to hide from her husband? There was nothing to hide… Right? They were just very good friends.

"Doctor Ziegler?" Gérard waved a hand in front of her face.

She shook her head a few times and lifted her eyebrows, "Hm?"

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked.

"Yes, just a little tired. Don't worry, Gérard. I'll be there." She assured him.

"You're the best," Gérard told her, "I'll let you get back to your studies."

He turned on his heel and left the mess hall just as merrily as he came in. Angela leaned against the counter top and rubbed her temples with her fingertips, sighing quietly. Why did she have to go and have a thing for her coworker's wife? And furthermore, why did Amélie have to instigate it further by being so flirty with Angela? Some of that was flirting, wasn't it? Angela had to believe she wasn't crazy when Amélie said those little lines that would make her heart rate pick up more than usual.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout?" Lena Oxton asked, appearing before Angela from seemingly nowhere.

It was normal with this one, though. What, with her being all blinky and fast and whatnot. Angela had grown used to being snuck up on by the newest member of Overwatch. She didn't mind at all, really. Lena was a sweet girl and it was impossible not to love her and her spunky personality. She had come to love her quite quickly and she made a great addition to the organization.

"Oh, nothing." Angela replied nonchalantly.

"Doctor things?" Lena prodded, opening up the fridge and looking around for a snack.

"I suppose so." The blonde woman chuckled as she turned around and leaned back against the countertop.

"I saw you talking to Lieutenant Commander Lacroix. Did you get an invite to his fancy surprise party too?" She wanted to know.

"I did," Angela said, "And, Lena, I've told you a hundred times, you can just call him Gérard."

"Right." Lena nodded and hopped up onto the counter, swinging her legs as she opened up a bag of baby carrots, "How are you feeling, doc? Reyes was worried about you."

"Is this what I sound like? A broken record, constantly asking people how they're feeling?" The doctor sighed.

Lena gave her a small frown and she instantly felt guilty.

"I'm sorry. I just… I'm exhausted, I suppose." Angela told her.

"It's alright! I just wanna make sure you're doin' alright. You take care of everybody else, so it's our job to take care of you every once in a while." The chipper brunette smiled.

"You're too sweet, Lena. I appreciate that."

"Oh, it's nothing! I've always got your back, remember?" Lena reminded her comrade.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me," Angela said, patting Lena on the shoulder.

"Mhm! Anyway, I told Fareeha I'd kick her butt in a spar after I got a snack. I'll see ya 'round, doc." She giggled as she blinked out of the kitchen.

Angela smiled to herself as she exited the mess hall. The weight on her shoulders felt a bit lighter than when she came in. On the way back to her office, she took a moment to hang around the window by the training room. The glass was vibrating and loud music was coming from behind the walls. At the far end of the facility, Fareeha and Tracer goofed off and danced around to Fareeha's favorite; Heavy metal. The doctor laughed to herself and carried on her way. As much as she wished she could join then in their shenanigans, she had things to do and not enough time to do them.

* * *

To Angela Ziegler, time was like a freight train. A freight train that moved at ridiculously fast speeds and plowed through everything in its wake. It didn't matter if Angela felt like she had only been studying an hour or two. Time didn't care. That metaphorical freight train would accelerate through what felt like one hour and turn it into four, or even seven. So it wasn't much of a shock when Wednesday finally rolled around and Angela, as usual, had completely lost track of time and was surprised to find Lena at the door to her office. She was dressed up in a nice little button down shirt, smiling expectantly at Angela as she stood in the hallway.

"I… Um…" The doctor stumbled for words, making no effort to cover up her confusion.

"Don't tell me you forgot!" Lena begged, "Amélie! Surprise party! Tonight!"

Angela ran a hand through her messy ponytail and groaned, " _Verdammt_ , I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my body."

"You've got plenty of time! Just throw on one of your fancier doctor coats and let's go!" The British girl encouraged her, earning a laugh in response.

"I'm going to get myself cleaned up. I'll meet up with you once I'm done." Angela advised the cadet.

"Sure thing!" Lena said as she blinked down the hallway.

As she went about readying herself, the doctor hummed and tried to get into the mindset necessary to attend social gatherings. Angela pulled out her favorite white turtle neck and pulled it over her head, smoothing out the fabric and picking off a stray piece of lint from one of the sleeves. She then searched around the office for a pair of black jeans that she knew she had left somewhere a few weeks ago… She couldn't quite recall where, though. The blonde woman dug around her work quarters, looking beneath things and behind things. Finally, she prevailed and found the missing jeans sticking out from beneath the couch. She decided that they weren't too wrinkly and stepped into them, grabbing a lint roller from the bottom drawer of her desk and rolling it down her legs. She was about to step out the door when she realized that she had to do something about her hair. Groaning, she whirled around and stood before a mirror.

Her fingers looped around the hair-tie that currently held a loose, messy ponytail and yanked it out. Blonde locks fell freely around her face and appeared somewhat wavy from being in a ponytail for so long. She supposed she had no other choice than to put it back up, perhaps just a tad neater this time. She pulled all of her hair together and put it into a tight ponytail, securing it with the hair-tie and examining her reflection to make sure she hadn't missed any pieces. Thankfully, she had successfully executed a perfect ponytail on the first try. She grabbed her purse off of the coffee table near the couch and exited the office, making sure the door had locked behind her. It didn't take long for her to find Lena, who was still blinking around Headquarters as she normally did. And it felt like it took even less time to arrive at the Lacroix's townhouse.

The hover car came to a gentle stop at the curb and allowed the handful of Overwatch members to get out. Angela got out first, followed by Lena, then Fareeha, then Gabriel, then Jesse. They crossed the street as the car drove away and Gabriel opened the door of the house, revealing numerous streamers and balloons decorating the interior. They all filed in and looked around at the festive display. Lena and Fareeha beamed excitedly and Jesse wore a half-smile. Gérard rounded the corner, covered with flour and sporting a "Kiss the Cook" apron. Gabriel snorted and Fareeha stifled a laugh.

"What have you been up to, Lacroix?" Gabriel asked.

"I made a cake! It's vanilla with strawberry filling." He said proudly.

"I didn't peg you for a master chef," Jesse told him, prompting Fareeha to try suppressing a laugh.

"I didn't peg you for a comedian," Gérard came back, "Thank you all for coming, by the way. You're the first to arrive, but there will be more soon. I invited some of her ballet friends and a few others."

"Sounds great! Need any help?" Lena offered.

"If you don't mind, I could really use somebody to make a playlist for the party. I have the system all set up over there." The French man replied, wiping his hands on his apron.

Fareeha instantly perked up and locked eyes with Lena. The two made a bee-line for the stereo system and began battling for the rights to the playlist. Jesse's brow furrowed as he watched them. He curled his fists and shook his head.

"You're gonna make everybody's ears bleed, Fareeha! Let me pick some real music." He growled as he stormed over to the pair.

Gérard laughed and turned back to Gabriel and Angela, "Where is Jack? I invited him."

"He couldn't come. Same with Amari. Shit hit the fan again and they're stuck at HQ, taking a bunch of international calls with officials. I'm guessing we'll have to intervene at some point." Gabriel predicted, watching a scowl form on Gérard's face.

"Hopefully it can wait till Amé leaves for Britain… I haven't been able to stay in one place for more than ten seconds." He uttered.

"You're the only one of us that's crazy enough to go and fall in love when the world is at its worst." Gabriel said, folding his arms.

Angela offered a half-smile to Gérard, but she couldn't ignore the sudden pain in her gut when Gabriel had said that. He wiped at his forehead and shrugged.

"I'm a hopeless romantic, my dear Gabriel. What can I say?" He retorted, "Ah, I nearly forgot. Angela, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," She nodded.

"In my office, there's a new bottle of wine sitting on my desk. Can you go get it for me? My office is down the hallway, second door on the left."

The doctor nodded and walked down the hallway. She felt odd receiving directions to his office. She already knew where it was. But he didn't know that. Why did he still not know that? She tried to push down the thoughts as she entered his office. The sound of more guests arriving filled the house as she flicked on the light switch and approached his L-shaped desk. There were a few picture frames on the desk and even more pictures tacked up on the wall above his computers. A familiar photo of Angela and Torbjörn from the Halloween party, a picture of the Blackwatch team, and a candid snapshot of Reinhardt lifting up Jesse above his head. Angela smiled to herself and looked at the framed photos. There was one of Amélie in a black leotard with a gold medal around her neck. And another one of Amélie, this time holding a small tuxedo cat with big, yellow eyes. Beside that frame was a photograph from their wedding day. Amélie smiled at the camera while Gérard gazed lovingly at her. They held hands. It looked happy.

Angela picked up the framed image and gazed at it. Amélie was smiling, but there were no little wrinkles by her eyes. Whenever she smiled, they were there… But not here. She set down the picture frame and turned around to grab the wine bottle. Her hands closed around it and she listened to the sound of more people arriving. She scanned the room for a clock, seeing that it was now nearly 8 o'clock and Amélie would be getting out of ballet practice soon. She turned off the light in the room and returned to the kitchen. Gabriel took the wine bottle and uncorked it as various strangers introduced themselves to Angela. At the far end of the room, the DJ trio had finally set aside their differences and finished up the playlist. Music now played at a reasonable volume throughout the townhouse. Gérard reappeared in the kitchen, this time all cleaned up and ready to surprise Amélie. The last of the guests showed up and Gérard swiftly gave them directions.

He temporarily turned off the music as everyone settled into their hiding spots. Angela hid behind the sofa with Gabriel and the two of them gave stern glares to Jesse, Fareeha, and Lena every time they threatened to burst out with laughter. Gérard turned the lights off so that it would appear that no one was home. Then, he kneeled down by the front window of the house and waited. Only a few minutes had passed when a cab pulled up outside of the townhouse and the sound of a car door closing could be heard. Gérard broke out into a full sprint and dove over the sofa, landing behind it with a loud thud. Jesse, Fareeha, and Lena nearly lost it right then. However, the sound of the door unlocking caused everyone to go still and silent. They were like statues as the hallway light flicked on and Amélie dropped her dance bag beside the door. She turned on the kitchen light and everyone jumped out of their hiding spots.

"Surprise!" They shouted in unison, causing an exhausted Amélie to snap back to life.

" _Qu'est-ce que c'est_?" Amélie asked.

"A surprise party! For you, _mon amour_. Before you go off to Britain for a while." Her husband explained, giving her hand a squeeze.

Amélie's eyes found Angela's and that trademark smile took ahold of her lips, "That's so sweet. Thank you, everyone."

"Let's get this party started!" Lena shouted, mashing the buttons on the stereo system.

The music resumed and everyone began socializing. People congratulated Amélie and wished her good luck left and right. Angela stepped aside and helped herself to the alcoholic refreshments as per usual. She fixed herself a glass of wine and made her way back to Gabriel's side. He watched in amusement as Fareeha and Jesse busted out their best dance moves.

"Have I ever told you how glad I am that the delinquent stuck around?" He inquired, taking a drink from his cup.

"Only a thousand times." Angela joked, "Fareeha seems glad to have him around, too."

"The two are practically siblings. We're like a weird, fucked up little family." Gabriel said.

"Mhm." She nodded in agreement.

Amélie finally began to approach her and Gabriel told her something else before walking off. She didn't really catch it, since she was so busy looking at Amélie, but it probably wasn't a very big deal. Amélie pulled her into a tight hug and then released her, giving her a peck on each cheek.

"I'm so glad you're here," She told Angela.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Angela said, getting a mushy smile from Amélie.

"I promise I'll be back. I just have to finish making the rounds. Don't go anywhere." Amélie ordered.

Angela stayed where she was, watching everyone socialize before her. Lena approached her and scanned the cooler for something to drink. She pulled out a can and cracked it open before turning to her comrade.

"Hey, doc?"

"Yes?"

"Between you and me… That Amélie Lacroix is real pretty." Lena whispered.

Angela laughed, "She sure is, isn't she?"

"Uh-huh! But you didn't hear it from me." The British girl reminded her before she hurried back over to Jesse and Fareeha.

Angela continued to chuckle to herself as she sipped her wine. It had probably only been about thirty minutes when Gabriel's phone started ringing. He answered it, hesitated, then stepped out of the room. Jesse fixed his attention to the hallway that Gabriel had disappeared into, waiting for him to return. Angela chewed the inside of her cheek. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what would happen next. Sure enough, Gabriel returned and waved Jesse over. There was a hushed exchange of words and then they walked over to Gérard. Gabriel spoke first and Gérard looked angry for a moment, then disappointed. He nodded, straightened up, and collected himself before going to his wife's side. He took her hand and led her out onto the back patio. When they stepped back inside, he nodded to Gabriel and Jesse and the three of them left the townhouse. Amélie re-entered looking rather unfazed. She kept her promise and rejoined Angela, standing by her side and putting together a mixed drink.

"Are you alright?" Angela questioned, her voice a bit cautious.

"Mm?" She looked at Angela for a moment, "Yes, I'm fine. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, but… Gérard-"

"What about him? He isn't here right now." Amélie cut her off before she could finish.

"I just-"

"Angela. I'm fine. _Vraiment_. I'm just happy that you're here." Amélie reassured her, reaching out and squeezing Angela's hand.

Amélie smiled at her and the doctor couldn't not smile back. The rest of the night went smoothly without any other interruptions. They played a few drinking games, shared some good stories, and did a little bit of dancing. By the time everyone had started leaving, it was nearly 1 o'clock in the morning. And as fate would have it, the remaining partygoers were Angela, Fareeha, and Lena.

"Thanks for letting us surprise you! It was loads of fun." Lena said graciously as she followed Fareeha to the front door.

"Thank you for surprising me." Amélie chuckled, "Angela?"

She turned at the sound of her name, stopping a few feet away from the door. Lena continued on her way outside and Fareeha held the door open.

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could stay just a moment longer? I think I injured myself at practice tonight…" Amélie asked, gesturing down toward her left leg.

"I don't see why not. I'll only be a minute." Angela told Fareeha.

"We'll get a cab." The Egyptian woman said as she shut the door behind her.

"So, what happened?" Angela inquired as she followed Amélie back into the living room.

To her surprise—and confusion—Amélie stopped in the hallway and turned around to face her. Tears had welled in her eyes and she once again looked utterly distraught. Angela reached out and took her hand.

"Amélie? What's the matter?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do." She choked out, wiping furiously at her eyes.

"About what?" Angela spoke softly.

"When I go. I'm going to be alone for weeks." Amélie winced.

"But you'll be with your ballet friends. And you know that everyone is only a phone call away." She said, rubbing her thumb across the back of Amélie's shaking hand.

Amélie only let out a few raggedy breaths in response. Angela hated to see her so broken up. The only thing that ever seemed to make her this way was loneliness. She was afraid to be alone.

"You can call me whenever you need to. I'll always pick up. Okay?" The doctor promised, her eyes finally meeting Amélie's as she moved her gaze off of the floor.

She looked at Angela differently, now. Not sad. Content, almost. She lifted her free hand from her side and daringly brought it to the blonde woman's cheek. They paused, both seemingly paralyzed for a moment before Amélie's lips parted ever so slightly and met Angela's. Initially, Angela was completely alarmed at the sudden contact. But the feeling of Amélie's soft, full lips against her own was much too intoxicating to pull away from. Her body relaxed, eyes closing as she found herself pressed against Amélie's body. Amélie's lips tasted like the salt from her tears and mint with a hint of vodka. She relished everything about the moment. From the taste of Amélie's lips to the way that her heart felt like it was bound to explode out of her chest at any given moment. It was inexplicably exhilarating.

And it was over too soon. Their lips parted and Amélie's hand remained on Angela's face. They both drew in air as their foreheads met. Everything was still as their eyes found each other like magnets. Amélie's thumb slowly moved over Angela's cheek, which was now flushed pink.

"Amélie, I-"

There was a banging on the door and the two abruptly split apart as Fareeha shouted outside, "Angela! The cab's here!"

"Just a second!" She called out.

"I'm sorry." Amélie told her.

"When do you come back?" Angela breathed, disregarding the unnecessary apology.

"Four weeks from now. Angela-"

"No. It's okay, Amélie… I just… Need some time."

"I understand…" Amélie nodded.

"Angela! Come on!" Fareeha yelled.

"I'll call you—Or—You call me." Angela said as she headed for the door.

"I will," The French woman replied, "Goodbye, Angela."

" _Auf wiedersehen_ ," She bid her farewell as she walked out of the townhouse.

Fareeha stood there with her arms crossed and Lena hung halfway out of the window of the cab. Angela smiled nervously and carried on down the walkway. Fareeha followed suit and they settled into the back seat of the cab. Lena hummed to herself, still somewhat intoxicated. Beside Angela, Fareeha drummed her fingers on her leg and stared straight ahead. The quiet gave Angela some time to try and process what had just happened. It also gave her time to realize that she wished what just happened had happened sooner. Oh, god. She kissed her friend's wife. She wiped her now sweaty palms on her jeans and tried to appear composed as her mind became clouded with thoughts. _Angela Ziegler; Scholar, peace advocate, medical expert, and homewrecker._

Yet somehow, she would do it again in a heartbeat. And the worst part?

She intended to.


	4. IV

For the first time in Angela Ziegler's life, time had started to move at a snail's pace. The morning that Amélie left for England was a cakewalk. The doctor had gone about her day, making the rounds to the laboratory, the clinic, and her office. It was an unusually tranquil day at the Overwatch Headquarters. Nightfall, however, brought about a completely new mood. From the moment that Angela's head hit her pillow, she couldn't sleep. Her eyes could have burned two little holes in the ceiling from the amount of time that she had spent staring at it. She tried to sleep on her couch, in her bed, and even on the floor. The suspense of not hearing from Amélie since their last encounter was eating her alive. She knew that she had told Amélie to call her, but she couldn't wait anymore. She stepped out onto the balcony of her private quarters and took out her phone. Her fingers hastily danced across the touch screen as she pulled up Amélie's contact, eager to hear her voice. The phone rang twice before she picked up.

" _Salut_ ," She said, sounding sleepy.

"Hi," Angela started, "I'm sorry if I woke you. I know I told you to call me, but I couldn't wait… I can't sleep."

"Aw, _chérie_. I'm so sorry. I meant to call you after practice, but I was so tired when I got back that I fell asleep." Amélie told her.

"I won't keep you long. How did your practice go?" The doctor asked, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

"It went well. I think I danced well since the nerves haven't set in yet." Amélie chuckled.

"I can hardly believe my ears," Angela gasped, "You get nervous?"

"Of course. Mostly around you, doctor." The French woman replied.

Oh, god. Now they were flirting like high school students. Still, a blush crept across Angela's cheeks at the unexpected response. She could practically hear Amélie smirking on the other end of the phone.

"Maybe I'm just better at hiding it than you are." She teased.

"I'm not a miracle worker." Angela retorted, "Well, not always."

"How was your day?" Amélie asked, the sound of her moving around coming through the phone.

"It was easy. And I got a lot done. How was yours?" The blonde woman said as she looked over her shoulder.

"Very busy. Exhausting…" Amélie huffed, "I'm homesick."

"You'll be home before you know it, I promise… Tell me about your ballet. What production is it?" Angela switched the subject as she strolled back into her private quarters, hoping a change in topics would distract Amélie from her homesickness.

"It's called Giselle. It's the story of a peasant girl who wants to be a dancer, but she has a weak heart. She meets a man named Albrecht that she thinks is a farmer, but he's actually a noble. They fall in love and she agrees to marry him… Oh! And there's also this other man who is suspicious of Albrecht, because he is actually engaged to a noblewoman named Bathilde. Toward the end of the first act, some noblemen and Bathilde come into the village and Albrecht panics and tells Giselle the truth. But she dies of a broken heart." She explained.

"Wow… Although, you can't really die from a broken heart…" Angela pointed out.

Amélie giggled, "It's a romantic tragedy, Angela. Not a medical encyclopedia."

"Right, right. Who are you dancing?" As if it was any question.

"Giselle," Amélie said proudly, "The director said he knew that I would be dancing Giselle the first time he ever watched me dance."

"I can't think of anyone better to be the star of the show." Angela told her, prompting Amélie to smile on the other side of the phone.

"I just… I wish that you could come see it. You've been to a lot of my productions this year… This is the first one you'll have to miss."

An idea made its way into the doctor's head and in that very instant, she made a decision. She was going to go see Amélie dance Giselle. She had to. But she wasn't going to tell Amélie. Not yet, at least.

"I wish I could come," She replied, feigning disappointment.

There was a drawn out silence before Amélie spoke up again.

"Are we going to talk about it?" She asked.

Angela nearly asked her what she meant, but reality gave her a quick slap to the face and she remembered everything about the current situation. You know? The situation where the world was on the brink of imploding on itself and Angela was making out with her friend's wife.

"I-Um… Well…" Angela stumbled over her words and felt her face turning red at the sound of her own voice.

"How do you feel?" Amélie wanted to know.

There was no right answer to this question. If she told Amélie that she felt guilty, then she would mess this thing up. Whatever this "thing" was. If she told Amélie that she had feelings for her, then she would mess up her friend's marriage. If she told Amélie that she wanted to do it again, then she would need to accept the fact that her moral compass was broken. There was no fucking right answer.

"That's a stupid question…" Amélie muttered before she could respond, "I know how you feel. I see the way you look at me… That's the only reason I did what I did."

"Really?" Angela asked quietly.

"Yes. You wear your heart on your sleeve." Amélie laughed softly, "But that's why I like you."

Another drawn out silence.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." The doctor nodded, even though she knew Amélie couldn't see her.

She took somewhat of a deep breath before she spoke, "I don't love Gérard. Or… _Eh bien_ … I'm not in love with him. I love him, of course. We grew up together. I just… I married him for other reasons."

"What kind of other reasons?" Angela asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"Family ties… Some politics… Pressure from everyone around me… Stupid reasons, really." Amélie sighed, "I wish I had been more resistant. I don't want you to feel guilty."

"No, I'm glad you told me." She admitted, although she knew that it wouldn't completely rid her of her guilt. But it could work for the moment.

"I understand if you don't want to be around me as often as usual. I'm sure it was a lot to take in… I just needed to get it all out." Amélie said, her voice wavering.

"That's the complete opposite of what I want. And that's the problem." Angela frowned.

"You said you needed time, so I assumed that meant that you'd want space too." The dark haired woman reasoned.

" _Nein_. If you stopped coming to visit or you stopped inviting me out, I'd surely lose my mind. You're the only thing in the world that's made me feel normal lately."

Even that was spreading it thin. Sure, Amélie's mere presence made it exponentially easier for Angela to play pretend and act like her life was that of the average person. Except for the fact that pretending with Amélie had obstacles of its own. Obstacles like the fact that she was married to one of Blackwatch's highest ranking officials, who also happened to be one of Angela's close friends. And now, knowing that the marriage meant nothing to Amélie and everything to Gérard, the doctor experienced an entirely new type of guilt. This one settled like a brick in her stomach.

"So, then, what do we do?" Amélie questioned.

"I wish there was a correct answer to that question."

"You don't have to feel guilty, Angela. I know you do, but you don't have to. What Gérard doesn't know cannot possibly hurt him." Amélie pointed out, "But I'm going to let you sleep on it."

"Okay," Angela said, "Will you call me tomorrow?"

" _Bien sûr. Bonne nuit_ , Angela. Sleep well."

* * *

Every night for the next three weeks, Amélie would call Angela at exactly 7:30 PM. Angela would languidly walk around her office as they spoke on the phone. She would listen to Amélie talk about her practices and she would always make sure that Amélie was taking good care of herself. On the opening night of the show, Amélie had twisted her ankle during the first act and continued dancing on it till the end of the performance. Angela nearly scolded her over the phone when Amélie had told her, but she refrained. After all, she could yell at Amélie for being so careless all she wanted once she got to England. The only good thing about Angela's tendency to be a workaholic was the fact that she had accumulated so much vacation time from it. When she went in to ask Jack, he was more concerned about why she had decided to go on vacation rather than the fact that she was going on vacation. As she left his office, she saw Gabriel in the hallway. She smiled at him and he raised a single eyebrow at her. It wasn't the usual exchange that they normally had, but it didn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary. No need to pay it any mind. There were more important things to think about.

The day of her departure, Angela slipped out of her office with her suitcase and scoped out the hallway. It was empty. The doctor hurried to the elevator and quickly closed the doors. She tapped her foot and checked her watch. She wasn't running late. In fact, she was perfectly on schedule. The only reason she was in a hurry was to evade any of her comrades. Especially Gérard Lacroix. He had a habit of popping up out of nowhere, so now would probably be one of the most inconvenient times for him to catch Angela off guard. She could already imagine him interrogating her about the suitcase and where she intended to go. She shuddered and stepped out of the elevator, doing a double-take in the corridor before continuing on her way. She eventually arrived at a small ship that took her to the airport. She had booked a flight knowing that if she used the transportation services at the Headquarters, word would certainly get around. Not that the pilot would know why she was even going to England, but the fact that she was going alone was enough cause for suspicion. This way was just better. Safer.

After nearly two hours, the plane touched down in London, England. Angela gathered her things and vacated the aircraft along with the other passengers. She hailed a cab and told the driver her destination as she shut the door behind her. Being in the back of a taxi again reminded her of the night that Amélie kissed her. She felt goosebumps break out across her arms beneath the sleeves of her beloved grey turtleneck sweater. For the remainder of the lengthy drive, Angela occupied herself with thoughts of Amélie; Something she had recently become very good at. It always helped to pass the time. Right now was no exception. Before she knew it, they had pulled up outside of her hotel. She paid the driver, thanked him, and went on her way. She passed the valet and entered the large building through a revolving door. Inside, the floors were marble and the ceilings were high. The room almost appeared to be glowing gold from the light that the chandeliers were giving off. Angela felt severely underdressed as she approached the front desk. A man in a nice suit looked up from a holopad.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?" He asked.

"Hi, I'd like to check in." Angela told him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Last name?" The man asked as he returned his gaze to the holopad.

"Ziegler."

He hesitated and looked up at her. "The doctor, right? I thought you looked familiar."

She wasn't quite sure what to say. It wasn't too often that people recognized her. She offered a smile and he looked back to the holopad again.

"You're in room 524. It'll be on the fifth floor of the building." The receptionist said as he handed her a room key, "And if there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know."

"Thank you." Angela replied as she stepped away from the desk.

She went on toward the elevators, directed by fancy signs that were hanging on the corners of every hallway. She reached the elevators and selected the up button, waiting to hear a ding or something. Other guests walked by Angela and gave her dirty looks. She was definitely severely underdressed. These people would never in their right minds believe that she was a world renowned medical professional. No wonder she never got recognized by random passersby. She stepped into the elevator and rode up to the fifth floor. The hallways were wider than she expected, with big, fancy windows at the ends. She found her way to her room and unlocked the door, surprised to see that the room looked identical to the photograph she had seen online. She tossed her suitcase onto the floor beside the bed and quickly stripped off all of the blankets except for the sheets. Then, she flopped onto the bed and exhaled loudly.

Travel was exhausting.

* * *

Exhausting, but well worth it. The show was amazing. It might have just been Angela's favorite ballet that she had seen Amélie dance. As usual, the performance earned a standing ovation and the stage became decorated with flowers that had been thrown from the members of the audience. After the curtains closed, Angela looked around to see where the most commotion was. She followed the horde of friends, family members, and significant others that tried to fight their way backstage. With a little bit of assertion, Angela was able to push past the crowd and slip behind the curtains. A crew had already started to pick apart the props and the backdrops from the performance. A few of the dancers hung around and chatted. Amélie was nowhere to be found. She was about to ask around when she caught a glimpse of Amélie walking by the other end of the stage. She walked out of sight, but Angela sped up and followed her. She took a right and walked down a hallway to what Angela assumed was her dressing room. The door shut behind her and Angela came to a stop in front of it soon after. She knocked on the door.

"Amélie Lacroix? Can I have a moment? I'm your biggest fan." She announced.

Amélie threw the door open and stared at her in disbelief. Angela giggled at her expression. It was priceless. Amélie grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the dressing room, closing the door behind them.

" _Que fais-tu ici_?" Amélie gawked.

"I thought I'd surprise you. I couldn't not come see you dance." Angela told her in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Angela, I…" She trailed off, tears welling in her eyes despite the smile growing on her lips.

Her lips. Angela watched them as they curved upward at the corners, revealing a set of pearly teeth. She remembered the way that they felt against her own lips. It had nearly been a month. She longed to feel them again, to taste them again. She took her by the waist and pulled her in close, crashing her lips into Amélie's. One of Amélie's hands found its way to the back of Angela's neck. Her hand was cold, but it felt nice. Chills ran down Angela's spine as they pulled apart from one another.

" _Je te remercie_ ," She said quietly.

"Are you hungry? Let me take you to dinner." Angela offered.

"You came all this way and you expect me to let _you_ buy _me_ dinner?" Amélie questioned, raising her eyebrows at the doctor.

"Yes. Please?" She insisted.

Amélie looked at her for a moment before groaning, "Fine, fine. But that's it. Anything else we do, I'm paying."

"Whatever you say, Amé."

* * *

"You know," Amélie started between spoonfuls of ice cream, "I don't think the waiter liked us all that much."

"What gave you that idea? Certainly not the way he looked at us when I asked him for ice in my wine." Angela bantered.

Amélie shuddered, "I still can't believe you did that. Putting ice in your wine should be considered a crime."

"I didn't know how much longer I could hide my biggest secret from you. And now that I've opened up about it, you want me thrown in jail." The doctor sighed.

"It's not you, it's me." Amélie joked as she scraped at the bottom of her bowl.

"Uh-huh," Angela laughed and shook her head, "Sure."

Amélie finished the last of her ice cream, wiping at her mouth with a napkin. Angela had long since finished her own dessert. She always ate like she would never eat again, wolfing down anything that was set in front of her. Sometimes it was good that she did that. After all, she would normally forget to feed herself. She often wondered how she had made it this far in her life without being able to take care of herself.

"Where are you staying?" The French woman questioned as she stood up and collected her bag.

"A hotel a few blocks away from here," Angela informed her, "It's quite nice."

"Forgive me, but I'm beginning to question your judgement, doctor. You put ice in your wine." Amélie pointed out as they exited the ice cream shop.

"You'll never let it go, will you?" Angela asked.

"Probably not. Should we hail a cab?" Amélie stopped at the curb.

"Mmm…" The Swiss woman looked around for a moment, "Do you mind walking?"

"Not at all." She said, matching Angela's pace as she began walking in the direction of the hotel.

It was quiet, save for the occasional car horn in the distance and the chatter of people inside of the restaurants they passed. A band played on the corner of one of the streets and a few passersby had gathered to watch. The music floated through the streets and filled Angela with that flickering sense of euphoria. The air was cool and crisp and the yellowish glow from the street lights reminded her of a few summer nights spent in Dorado during one of her first missions. This was nice. Angela hadn't even noticed Amélie's staring until she felt cold fingers intertwining themselves with her own. She turned to Amélie, who now wore a smile on her lips.

They hadn't exchanged a word when they finally reached the sidewalk outside of the hotel. They hadn't needed to. Silence was comfortable, now. It was different, now. Something that Angela didn't have to be afraid of anymore. They stopped and Angela looked up at the fifth floor of the building. She wasn't ready to be away from Amélie again. It had been three long, horrible weeks filled with longing and too much time to think. Amélie seemed to feel the same way as she followed Angela's line of sight.

"I'd better walk you up. This is a rather suspicious looking establishment. I would hate for something to happen to you on your way back to your room." Amélie said, earning a giggle from the blonde woman.

Amélie started walking again and her grip on Angela's hand tightened. They walked into the now empty lobby and Angela pointed her to the elevators. On the ride up, Angela made it seem like an accident when she purposely pressed a few extra floors, just to have a bit more time with Amélie. She felt ridiculous for resorting to such childlike tactics, but it was Amélie's fault for always making her feel like a high schooler experiencing her very first real crush. The elevator came to a stop at her floor and she showed Amélie the way to her room. When they stopped in front of the door, Angela brushed some loose hair out of her face and sighed.

"Well, thank you for walking me. I'm relieved that there were no ruffians around." She prodded.

"It was no trouble." Amélie smiled, "Thank you for coming all this way to see me dance. It really means a lot to me. I hope you know that."

Angela blushed, "I like to watch you dance. It's—Er—You're beautiful."

Curse her inability to be romantic. Curse her stumbling over words at the wrong time. Curse her cheeks that lit up bright red every time Amélie so much as breathed in her direction. Regardless, Amélie placed a gentle peck on her forehead. Their eyes met for a moment and Angela couldn't resist stealing a kiss. Their lips touched for what felt like a fraction of a second, but that just wouldn't be enough. That wouldn't be enough for almost a month's worth of fantasizing about how it would feel to kiss her again, to touch her again. It simply wouldn't do.

Amélie, once again, appeared to be on the same page as Angela. She pulled Angela in closer and kissed her hard. It was yearning at first, slow and almost thoughtful. Then, Amélie's teeth grazed over Angela's bottom lip. She bit down ever so slightly, eliciting the smallest moan from the back of Angela's throat. Amélie pushed her back against the door and parted her lips with her tongue. Angela felt a surge of heat flow through her entire body and she swore her chest was about to explode. She decided, though, that this wouldn't be a terrible way to go. With Amélie pressed against her, breathing in her scent. Tonight, she was wearing a perfume that smelled like clean linen and jasmine. Yeah, this wouldn't be a terrible way to go at all.

Her hands fumbled in her purse as she searched for her room key. When she finally found it, she broke the kiss and turned around, trying to unlock the door. Her shaking hands made it quite a difficult task, especially with Amélie dotting her neck with kisses and nips. She flung the door open and pulled Amélie in, the door slowly shutting on its own behind them. Amélie kissed her hungrily, a bit surprised when her lips were met with equal demand by Angela's own. Angela found herself backed up to the edge of the bed and put up no fight when Amélie pushed her onto it. The doctor lie on her back as Amélie crawled over her, holding herself above Angela and attacking her neck again in a flurry of bites and small pecks. Angela moaned softly as Amélie's teeth grazed over her throat, one of her hands sliding beneath her shirt and roaming over her stomach. Her normally icy fingertips were now like lit matches, dancing across her skin and setting her body on fire.

Amélie pulled Angela's shirt over her head and tossed it to the side of the bed, reuniting their lips with a sloppy kiss. Amélie's hot breath caused goosebumps to break out over the doctor's skin as she kissed her way from her lips to her chest. While her lips were focused on Angela's collar bone, her fingers worked nimbly to discard the nude colored bra that stood in her way. Angela sat up a bit to speed the process along, just as eager as Amélie. With the impeding article of clothing out of the way, Amélie went on. Her hands moved to Angela's back, pulling her in closer as her lips closed around hardened pink flesh. Angela felt heat pooling in her lower abdomen as she swallowed what would have been a moan. All she wanted was to feel Amélie's touch across every inch of her body.

She wouldn't have to wait as long as she first thought. Amélie's right hand trailed down to her jeans, dexterously unbuttoning them with only one hand. When she had them unbuttoned, Amélie's hand snaked into Angela's pants and her fingertips lingered over the damp cloth between the doctor's legs. She flashed Angela her winning smirk and removed her hand from the jeans, using both hands to yank them down her legs. Angela kicked off the left leg as Amélie became distracted again, moving back to her and beginning to remove her own clothes. As she pulled off the t-shirt with the logo of her dance studio, Amélie looked down at Angela, who was now wearing only a pair of white underwear. She licked her lips like a lioness that had just found the perfect meal. Angela felt her heart jump into her throat and she swallowed hard. Amélie had just barely removed her pants when she returned to the bed, her lips instantly finding their way to Angela's stomach. She stayed there for a while, enjoying the small bucks that Angela's hips did every time she ran her tongue over a certain sensitive spot.

"Amélie… Please." Angela gasped, looking down at her.

"What do you want?" Amélie asked as she continued her path of kisses all the way down to Angela's inner thigh.

Angela absent-mindedly spread her legs further, feeling like she might lose her mind from the agonizing pace that Amélie was moving at. Amélie wore a deadpan expression as she patiently awaited Angela's response. Of course she knew what Angela wanted from her. And she wanted to give it to her just as badly. But she wasn't going to budge until she heard Angela tell her what she wanted.

"Y-Your mouth," The doctor sputtered, " _Please_."

" _Tellement impatiente_ ," Amélie said with a devilish grin.

Angela had spoken and now she would happily oblige. The French woman got off of the bed and kneeled down on the floor at the end of the mattress. Her arms hooked beneath Angela's legs and she tugged her to the edge of the bed. Angela watched as Amélie pulled off her panties, eyes half-lidded and a devious half smile plastered to her lips. With the underwear out of the way, Amélie wasted no time. She pushed her head between Angela's thighs and delved her tongue into the slick, pink skin. Angela stiffened like a board and felt the air in her lungs become caught in her throat. However, this was quickly remedied by Amélie's tongue finding its way to Angela's clit. The blonde woman threw her head back and white-knuckled the bedsheets as Amélie tested different patterns on the sensitive bundle of nerves. When she flicked her tongue rapidly, but just barely made contact with the skin, she could elicit the most heavenly moans from Angela.

" _Oh mein gott_ ," The Swiss woman breathed, her head swimming with overwhelming amounts of dopamine.

Hearing Angela's reactions to everything that she was doing was a new form of intoxicating. It encouraged her to keep going, to please Angela as much as she could. Amélie quickened her pace and it didn't take much longer for Angela to reach her climax. Her fingers tangled themselves in Amélie's dark tresses and she pulled hard. Amélie couldn't help but let a small moan escape her own lips and the feeling was enough to push Angela completely over the edge.

" _Amélie! Fuck!_ " She cried out as she felt a surge of heat and a tidal wave of pleasure ripple through her.

When her body felt less limp, she lifted her head to look down at Amélie, who was now peppering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. She took a minute to catch her breath and wiped the back of her wrist against the thin layer of sweat that coated her forehead. Amélie crawled back onto the bed, leaning down to give Angela a slow, passionate kiss. Angela closed her eyes blissfully and savored the feeling of Amélie's lips. Their foreheads touched as their lips broke apart and Angela propped herself onto her elbows. She brought a hand to the back of Amélie's neck and pressed her lips to the skin on her cheek. She moved her mouth to Amélie's ear and nibbled gently on her earlobe, prompting a small gasp to escape Amélie's lips.

"My turn," The doctor murmured, "Strip."

Her wish suddenly became Amélie's command. That didn't mean that she couldn't have fun with it, though.

Her hands moved to the clasp of her black lace bra, unhooking it and letting it slip off of her shoulders and onto the bed in front of her. Angela watched with a sinful haze in her eyes as Amélie's lithe fingers traced down her bare skin toward the waistband of her pants. Her lissome body was more beautiful than Angela imagined. Amélie stood up to remove her pants, then took off her underwear at a tantalizing, torturous pace. Angela wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but then Amélie would beat her at her own game. She clenched a fist and watched as Amélie returned to her side, sitting on her knees with her legs shoulder-width apart. She leaned in and kissed Angela, her hand finding the clenched fist and slowly unraveling each finger. Breaking the kiss, Amélie locked eyes with Angela and brought her hand to her mouth, closing her lips around Angela's index finger. Angela's eyes widened and she felt a second surge of adrenaline flowing through her veins.

Amélie sucked on her index finger, then her middle finger, and finally her ring finger before guiding Angela's hand between her legs. Sure, Amélie had lead her there. But Angela knew all of the secrets to human anatomy. She was determined to use those secrets to give Amélie pleasure like she had never known. And she did. The entire time, Angela kept her eyes riveted onto Amélie, watching her expressions change as she pushed her fingers in and out at an ever-changing pace. Amélie wasn't nearly as loud as Angela, but she did produce many guttural swears and whimpers. Angela could feel her tightening around her fingers rather quickly as Amélie dug her fingernails into the skin on her back. Her nails raked up to Angela's shoulders as she came undone around the doctor's fingers. A flurry of French curses floated past her lips and she slumped against Angela's frame. She buried her face into the crook of Angela's neck, breathing hard and trying to compose herself. Angela planted a kiss on the top of her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. The weight of Amélie against her, combined with the faint scent of her perfume and the sound of her shallow breathing… It was perfect.

Amélie leaned back and captured her mouth for a moment. "I'm not finished with you, yet." She purred against Angela's lips.

Okay, _now_ it was perfect.


End file.
